


The Effects of a Kind Act

by Leggo My Lego Harry Potter (Runic_Purple_Panda)



Series: Old Ideas from Fanfiction.net [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, LEGO Harry Potter (Video Games)
Genre: Draco Malfoy is not treated well, F/M, Pairings Only In Epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic_Purple_Panda/pseuds/Leggo%20My%20Lego%20Harry%20Potter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hagrid helps out two Slytherins who are out of bed after curfew, and they never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: After Curfew Aid

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a part in Year 2 where Crabbe and Goyle (really Harry and Ron) try to find the common room and get caught by Argus Filch, who would send them away to bed, even if my character was someone he had no authority over like Hagrid. For the sake of this story, it actually is Crabbe and Goyle and is at some point during Year 2, but takes place after curfew. The remainder of the story, however, takes place in Year 3.

Vincent Crabbe shoved Gregory Goyle back as far as he could into the small enclave.  Mrs. Norris had seen them and run off to get the cranky caretaker, who they could already hear.  Unfortunately, they’re only escape route would be into their common room, which was past Filch, who would almost certainly see them.

They’re only hope was to have him pass them by mistake.  Vince punched Greg’s arm.  It was his fault they were out after hours; well, not exactly his fault.  Greg’s blood sugar had a habit of getting low and Draco had ordered them to not call one of the house-elves.  Since their own Houses were Vassal Houses to the House of Malfoy, they had to listen to Malfoy or be disowned.

That meant that Greg required a trip to the kitchen whenever his blood sugar got low, usually supported by Vince since Greg couldn’t walk very well due to dizziness, whether it was before curfew, or after.  In tonight’s case, after.  Mrs. Norris stopped right in front of their enclave and yowled.

“I’ll get you now!” Filch cried, his footsteps coming closer.  Vince and Greg closed their eyes, fully prepared to get a detention, when their savior arrived on scene.

“You’ll get who now?” Hagrid boomed, stopping Filch in his tracks.  Hagrid stopped in front of their enclave, blocking them from view.  Mrs. Norris looked under his legs at them and hissed.

“Mrs. Norris was tracking students out of bed,” Filch said.

“Was some scuffling a couple of hallways back that’er way,” Hagrid said.

“Come on, Mrs. Norris,” Filch said.  “We’ll get them yet, my sweet.”  Mrs. Norris hissed at them one last time before following Filch down the hallway and out of view.  Hagrid turned around to face them.

“Now, what’re you two doing out of bed a’ this time o’ night.  Don’cha know there’s a monster on the loose?”

“Greg’s blood sugar got low,” Vince said.                     

Hagrid nodded, “Have trouble with that meself.  Hard to keep up with a large metabolism like mine.  Muggle candy works the best, ya know.  Packed with sugar.  I have to use a couple of these every time, but I recon these’ll last ya a lot longer.”  Hagrid handed over several brightly wrapped candy-bars, all with the words ‘King-Size’ on them.  “Now, let’s get you two to bed before ol’ Filch and that nasty cat o’ his comes back.”

Vince and Greg nodded.

And never forgot.

* * *

 “I saw Hagrid earlier,” Greg said.  “He was crying.  Draco’s daddy convinced the Ministry to have that hippogriff killed.”

Vince frowned.  Draco was always whining to his daddy about something or other.  Not for the first time, Vince wished his and Greg’s families weren’t Vassal Houses to House Malfoy.

“We can’t let that happen,” Greg continued.  “He’s always nice to us, especially since last year.”  Vince remembered – Hagrid had helped them escape Filch.  And since then he had kept Greg well supplied with Muggle candy, which really did help keep his blood sugar from getting too low.

“What do you suggest?” Vince asked.

“I don’t know,” Greg said.  “I think we need to ask someone else for ideas.”  The two of them turned to look at the only other Slytherin with a family as rich and powerful as the Malfoys – Daphne Greengrass.

“We’ll talk to Greengrass after dinner,” Vince said.  Greg nodded.


	2. 01: Conflicting Testimony

Daphne Greengrass sighed and closed her book.  It looked like she wouldn’t be getting any reading done tonight.

“What can I do for the two of you?” she asked.  Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle only came to her when they needed help with interpreting Draco’s orders.  Of course, the pointy-faced brat couldn’t be bothered to explain himself properly; being horribly spoiled was that one’s problem, Daphne was sure, as neither his mother nor father acted so gallingly.

“We want to help Hagrid with his hippogriff problem,” Vince said.

Daphne sat up straighter.  This was something new.  And interesting.  “Why?”

“He helped us out last year,” Vince said.

“And he’s been getting me candy to help with my blood sugar since then,” Greg said.

“Well then, why don’t you tell me everything you know about Hagrid’s hippogriff problem, and we’ll see what we can do,” Daphne said.

Vince and Greg began talking.  When they finished, Daphne sighed and leaned back.  She was silent for a few minutes before speaking.

“Alright then,” she said.  “Obviously, as witness to the hippogriff event, you are entitled to send your testimony into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.  Malfoy hasn’t ordered you _not_ to, so as long as you send it in before he does, you’ll be in the clear.  Sending in conflicting testimony will force the DRCMC to use Veritaserum to get to the truth, or drop all charges against the hippogriff.

“Now, this leads to our next problem.  Malfoy will be pissed that you sent in testimony contradictory to his, and will likely take the action of having your parents disown you.  As your Houses are Vassal Houses, I can see only one solution to this – you must become the personal valets of someone with more money and political power than House Malfoy.  Don’t look at me, that doesn’t get you out of the Slytherin dormitory.  Malfoy will take to cursing you if he can’t get you punished any other way, and you both know it.”

“But who do we go to then?” Vince asked.

“There are a few families that fit the requirements – Bones is one, but Susan Bones already has a valet, and isn’t looking for more; Longbottom is another, but Neville Longbottom is quite spineless at this moment in time, so he’s out; Diggory, but they never use valets; leaving only Potter, and I don’t think he even knows about the kind of power he wields.”

“So we have to go to Potter?” Greg asked.

“Yes, but not directly.  He’s always hanging around Weasley, and you know what he thinks of all Slytherins.  No, we’ll have to pass a message through Granger.”

“Where do we find Granger?” Vince asked.

“Where else?  The library, of course,” Daphne said.  “Come along boys.  We’ve a Gryffindor to see.”

* * *

 Hermione looked up in alarm as three Slytherins sat down opposite her.  She palmed her wand, prepared to draw it at the first sign of impending violence.

“We come in peace,” the girl said.  “My name is Daphne Greengrass.  These two you know already – Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.  We have an idea which may solve Hagrid’s hippogriff problem, however there are some issues involved that we need Potter’s help with.  Is there a time and place you and he would feel comfortable discussing it.”

“Just Harry and I?  Not Ron?”

“Ron Weasley has issues with all Slytherins, despite us not all being carbon copies of Malfoy,” Daphne said.

Hermione nodded, “Is there any particular time that would work for you three?”

“Now if you can manage it,” Daphne said.  “The quicker we get this done, the less chance there is of Malfoy preventing us from doing it.”

Hermione nodded again, “I’ll go get Harry then.”

* * *

 “Ginny, I need your help with something,” Hermione whispered.

Ginny turned to her and whispered back, “What’s up, Hermione?”

“I think I might have a way to save Buckbeak, but I need to steal Harry away for a while without Ron following us.  Do you think you can distract him real quick for me?”

“Oh, I can do that,” Ginny said, grinning evilly.  She stormed over to her brother and smacked him on the head, “RONALD WEASLEY, HOW DARE YOU!?”

“What did I do?!” Ron asked.

As Ginny continued yelling at Ron for some imagined slight, Hermione quickly pulled Harry away and out of the Gryffindor common room without being spotted by anyone.

* * *

 “Hermione tells me you have a way to save Buckbeak,” Harry said.

Daphne looked confused for a moment, but Vince leaned over and whispered, “That’s the hippogriff’s name.”

“Ah, yes, we do.  Right now the only testimony given in the case of, er, Buckbeak, is Draco Malfoy’s.  It is, of course, a total lie that favors Malfoy’s agenda – in this case, the death of Buckbeak.  Now, any number of our classmates could send in conflicting testimony, but more credence will be given to Malfoy’s as his was made first and he's the injured party.

“If, however, someone in a certain position of closeness to Malfoy were to send in conflicting testimony, say a member of a Vassal House, that would force the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to either use Veritaserum or drop the case against Buckbeak.”

“What’s a Vassal House?” Harry asked.

“A magical House that has sworn service to another magical House,” Hermione answered.

“Correct,” Daphne said.  “Like, for instance, the Houses of Crabbe and Goyle to the House of Malfoy.”

“So they’re the ones that would give testimony,” Hermione said.  “But what do you need Harry for?”

“Well,” Daphne said, “as you can imagine, Malfoy will not be pleased should Greg and Vince do this.  He would demand, and likely get, their families disown them.  The only way to prevent this is, in between giving testimony and Malfoy finding out, the two of them become the personal valets of someone else.”

“Valets?  Like the people that park cars at fancy restaurants?” Harry asked.

“Valets have a different position in the magical world,” Daphne said.  “Essentially a servant/bodyguard.  Susan Bones’ valet also acts as her secretary, but Greg and Vince are more qualified for the bodyguard position.  Now, while there are multiple Houses capable of supporting valets with members at Hogwarts, only two of them currently fit our needs.  One is my own, the House of Greengrass, but this still leaves them in the Slytherin common room.”

“Which would put them in a perfect position for Malfoy to otherwise retaliate against them,” Hermione said.  “I assume since you said Harry was required that the other House is the House of Potter?”

“There’s a House of Potter?” Harry asked.  “And why would becoming a valet keep them from getting disowned?

“Yes it is, yes there is, and no one would be willing to commit the social faux pau of disowning a valet.  It’s considered an honor to be accepted into service as one, especially for a House as old as ours are,” Daphne said, answering both their questions.  “Now, this is what we need to do…”

* * *

 The ministry worker stretched and yawned and sleepily took the two letters from the owl, who hopped on his desk and stared expectantly at him.

“Waiting for a reply are you?” he asked.  He opened the first letter.

_To Whom It May Concern_

_In the Subject of the Case of the House of Malfoy against the hippogriff known as Buckbeak_

_My name is Vincent Crabbe.  I was there during the incident and wish to give testimony.  Draco Malfoy was highly condescending of Professor Hagrid during the entirety of the class, and ignored Professor Hagrid’s instructions on the safe handling of the hippogriff._

_Professor Hagrid clearly stated several times that we should not insult the hippogriffs and always be respectful of the, before asking for volunteers to step forward.  It was at this time fellow student, Gryffindor Harry Potter volunteered to approach the hippogriffs first._

_Potter was introduced to the hippogriff in question, Buckbeak, and after treating Buckbeak with respect was allowed to ride him.  Shortly after their return to the ground, Malfoy stormed up and said, “Not so bad are you, you great brute.” insulting and angering the hippogriff into attacking._

_Had Draco Malfoy not ignored Professor Hagrid’s instructions, he would not have been injured.  He also lied about the severity of the injury.  Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, fixed the scratch on his arm with a simple spell.  He did not require the sling, but wore it in an attempt to get others to do his school work for him and to have Slytherin miss playing a quidditch game in the rain._

_The above is true to the best of my knowledge, so I swear._

_Sincerely,_

_Vincent Crabbe_

_House of Crabbe, Vassal House to the House of Malfoy_

_PS, Receipt Required._

The second letter was much the same, only it was written by a Gregory Goyle.  As both letters required receipts, the ministry worker wrote the receipts out and tied them to the owl who took off.  He’d turn the letters into the case worker tomorrow morning, he decided as he closed his eyes and began to take a nap.

* * *

 Vince and Greg huddled over the letters they had received.

_Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

_Testimony Received_

_Thank You for your cooperation._

“Testimony received?” Malfoy read over their shoulders.  “You sent testimony in for the case against that beast of Hagrid’s?”

“Yeah,” Vince said, thankful that the letters didn’t mention the entirety of the testimony given.

“Did you not want us too?” Greg asked.

 “No, no, this is wonderful,” Malfoy said, grinning.  “Now it’ll be practically impossible for that oaf to get the beast off!  It’ll be killed for sure!  Good job boys.  I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Malfoy strode off, whistling cheerfully.  When he was out of eyesight, Vince and Greg turned to Daphne and nodded.  Daphne nodded back and headed for the library to meet with Hermione.


	3. 02: The Black Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was watching Top Gear shortly before writing this, and figured why not; Since Harry’s middle name is James, Crabbe and Goyle’s middle names are now Jeremy and Richard.

It would be another full day before the three Slytherins and two Gryffindors could get away and meet up again.

“Are you ready for this?” Daphne asked. The three boys nodded. “Alright then. I’ll be standing in as Wandbearer for Vince and Greg, due to their families’ usual Wandbearers currently being unavailable.”

“And I’ll be standing in as Wandbearer for Harry, due to the Potter Family not currently having a usual Wandbearer,” Hermione said.

Daphne nodded, “Vince, you first, touch your wand to Harry’s.”   Once Vince and Harry’s wands were touching at the tip, Hermione and Daphne placed their wand tips on Harry and Vince’s hands respectively. Daphne then nudged Vince.

“I, Vincent Jeremy Crabbe, do hereby swear myself into the service of the House of Potter as a personal valet to one Harry James Potter.”

“I, Harry James Potter, do hereby accept one Vincent Jeremy Crabbe into the service of the House of Potter as my personal valet.”

Their wands began glowing slightly as ribbons of light came from Hermione and Daphne’s wands and wrapped around Vince and Harry’s hands and wands. When the lights disappeared, Greg took Vince’s place, and they repeated the ritual.

“I, Gregory Richard Goyle, do hereby swear myself into the service of the House of Potter as a personal valet to one Harry James Potter.”

“I, Harry James Potter, do hereby accept one Gregory Richard Goyle into the service of the House of Potter as my personal valet.”

The same lights as before appeared and disappeared.

“Now what?” Harry asked.

“Now, we inform the house-elves that you have gained two new valets,” Daphne said. “They’ll need to make room in your dormitory for them since they are required to remain by your side. And they’ll also need to add the valet symbol and the crest for the House Potter to Vince and Greg’s robes. I suppose we should inform Professors McGonagall and Snape as well.”

“You suppose?” Hermione asked.

“Well, you can’t deny that the look on Snape’s face would be hilarious when he finds out, but I’d rather have lots of witnesses around, so I think we should wait until lunch to inform him and McGonagall.”

“Or we could ask McGonagall to tell him,” Harry suggested. “I’m all for being courageous when needed, but my courage has its limits.”

* * *

McGonagall rubbed the sides of her forehead. She could feel the headache coming on.

“Repeat all of that, if you will, please,” she told the students in front of her.

“Vince and Greg gave conflicting testimony to Malfoy’s in order to force the DRCMC to use Veritaserum in Buckbeack’s case, or to drop it altogether. Because they belong to House Malfoy Vassal Houses, there would be retribution when Malfoy finds out, so they became the personal valets of Harry to avoid being disowned,” Hermione repeated.

“We’ve already informed the house-elves,” Daphne said. “They’re preparing to add two beds, one on either side of Potter’s, and move Vince and Greg’s belongings to the Gryffindor boys’ dorms. Afterwards, they will affix the valet mark and Potter crest onto Vince and Greg’s robes, and return the ones they were wearing. We have yet to inform Professor Snape of this.”

“We were kind of hoping you would ma’am,” Harry said. “Or that you’d at least be present when we do, since Snape doesn’t exactly have a history of behaving rationally around me.”

“I can take care of that,” McGonagall said. “In the meantime, I would suggest you begin planning for your summer accommodations. From what I’ve heard of your relatives, Mr. Potter, they’re unlikely to allow another wizard to stay with them, much less two, and I doubt Mr. Crabbe or Mr. Goyle’s families will be happy to take you in.”

“I don’t think my parents would mind,” Daphne offered. “They know I’ve been tutoring Vince and Greg, and I’m sure my father would want to quiz you about your politics, Harry.”

McGonagall sat up straighter and stared at Daphne, “Ms. Greengrass, doesn’t the Greengrass family have a marriage contract with the Black family?”

“A marriage contract?” Hermione asked, appalled. “But that’s, that’s-“

“Backwards and barbaric,” Daphne suggested. “Trust me, Hermione, most witches and wizards these days would agree with you, but the Malfoys are a special kind of idiot. They insisted on activating the contract under the assumption that Draco is the Black Heir, but when they went to have him claim his place Gringotts stalled him stating there was another contender for the Black title and that they would have to wait until that person either turned it down or turned twenty-five, whichever came first.”

“Bet that annoyed him,” Harry said.

“Quite,” Daphne said, smirking.

“The Blacks married into many families, but I believe the most likely candidate is Mr. Potter here,” McGonagall said.

“Me?” Harry asked.

“Yes, your Great-Great-Grandmother was Dorea Black. Now, she’s not from the main branch of the Black family, but neither is Mr. Malfoy’s mother, who was also a Black before she married. As there are no heirs available from the main branch of the family, Magic itself will decide the next heir from available descendants.”

“How will it do that?” Hermione asked.

“All contenders for the title will be required to take an inheritance test, done by the goblins. Although, there is one other way that Harry might inherit the Black title.”

“How?” Daphne asked. Anything that could get her or her little sister out of having to marry Draco Malfoy was a good thing in her books.

“Well, and I don’t tell you this lightly, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, giving him a stern look. “The only remaining member of the main branch of the Blacks, is the grandson of the last Lord Black. You know him better as Sirius Black. As he was the heir after his father died, his mother was unable to disown him without his grandfather’s permission, no matter how much she wished too. In their last year here at Hogwarts, Sirius Black and your father preformed a Blood Binding Ceremony, essentially making them brothers.”

“But if they were brothers then why did he betray my parents?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, Harry. The war split many families apart,” McGonagall said. “I do know they named him your Godfather, and that he in turn named you his heir, adding another possibility for you to be the Black Heir. As the Great-Great-Grandson of one Black, and the nephew and godson of the last Black Heir, it is most likely that the title falls to you rather than Mr. Malfoy.”

“Meaning even if my father can’t get out of the contract, neither my sister nor I still have to marry Malfoy,” Daphne said happily.

“Correct,” McGonagall said. “If you like, I can contact my account manager now to send someone capable of doing the inheritance test to see us.”

Daphne gave Harry a hopeful look. Harry turned to McGonagall and nodded, “If nothing else, I can at least try and make sure Daphne doesn’t have to marry Malfoy. She has helped us a quite a bit with all this valet business.”

“I’ll make the call then.”

* * *

It took twenty minutes for the McGonagall’s account manager to gather the necessary materials for Harry’s inheritance test and come through the floo in McGonagall’s office.

“First sign this,” the goblin, named Tarnok, said. “It’s a simple form stating you allow me to perform the inheritance test and look at the results so I can contact the correct account managers.”

“May I?” Daphne said. Harry handed her the form, and she looked it over. “Looks quite simple to me, and it does say what Tarnok says it did. Still, you should never sign something without reading through and understanding it or having someone else look it over for you.”

“Sound advice,” Tarnok said as Harry signed it. “Now please add three drops of blood to the bowl.” Harry did so, using a knife Tarnok handed him. McGonagall then healed the wound while Tarnok poured a potion into the bowl. It was quickly followed by a rolled up parchment which absorbed all the liquid and began to glow a light blue.

“Now, let’s see,” Tarnok said, opening the roll of parchment. “Most obviously is the House of Potter, of course. The Houses of Peverell and Gryffindor both married into the House of Potter, adding to House Potter’s wealth and political clout. You needn’t worry about those unless you intend to separate the Houses again through your Heirs. Interesting…this says your mother was a descendent of Ravenclaw, however it is not close enough to the main line to make an attempt at the House of Ravenclaw. And through her, you gain by conquest, the House of Slytherin. And here, through your godfather, you gain the House of Black.”

Daphne began bouncing up and down in her seat until she caught sight of the odd looks she was given and immediately stopped herself, “Sorry, I was just excited. No marrying Malfoy!”

“Then you are aware of the currently active marriage contract?” Tarnok asked.

“We are,” Harry said.

Tarnok nodded and continued, “There is a long list of Houses and other estates which were left to you due to your status as Boy-Who-Lived. You’ll forgive me if I don’t list them all. Their wealth and any Wizengamot seats also pass to you. It will take some time for me to contact all of the account managers in question as they are spread out over several different goblins in more than one country. The account managers will owl you over the next few days. If that’s all, I will take my leave now.”

“Er, actually,” Hermione spoke up. “I was wondering if there was a more secure way for Harry to send and receive mail to and from Gringotts.”

“May I ask why?” Tarnok asked.

“Well, it’s just, in the muggle world, celebrities receive fan-mail daily. If Harry is really as important to people as I think he is, then shouldn’t he be receiving fan-mail by the bucket-load every day?”

“I, I never thought of that,” McGonagall said. “I can’t imagine that he doesn’t receive anything, so why doesn’t any of it get to him?”

Tarnok glanced at Harry, “With your permission, I will summon a curse-breaker to check for spells cast upon you to prevent the delivery of your mail, and, if you’re willing, to take a look at that scar. I will also return with one of our enchanted strongboxes, to ensure the safe delivery of Gringotts mail.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. “I appreciate it.”

“It is almost time for lunch, actually,” McGonagall said. “And then you all have your afternoon classes. Tarnok, if you would, please return after dinner, around seven-thirty or so. I will have Mr. Potter and his friends here.”

Tarnok nodded and flooed away.


	4. 03: Confrontations

Instead of taking her usual seat at the staff table for lunch, McGonagall took the open seat next to Snape, “Severus, we need to have a discussion.”

“Alright,” Snape said, warily.

“Should you lose your temper during this discussion, I will stick your butt to that seat and cast a silencing spell on you, am I clear?”

“Very.”

“Excellent.  The first order of business, two of your Slytherins have become the personal valets of one of my Gryffindors.”

“What?”

“Don’t play coy.  I know full well you heard me.  The house-elves have already moved Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle’s things to the Gryffindor third year boys dorm as they will be required to remain near Mr. Potter at all times, and do recall what I said I’d do if you lost your temper.”

Snape turned a nasty shade of reddish-purple but held his tongue.

“The second order of business deals with Ms. Greengrass.  It is my understanding that Mr. Malfoy regularly harasses her.”

“He does, but as there is a marriage contract involved I am unable to prevent it.”

“There was only a marriage contract involved as long as Mr. Malfoy was the presumed Black Heir.  He no longer is.  Mr. Potter took an inheritance test this morning, which declared him the Black Heir among others.  As such, the contract no longer applies to Mr. Malfoy and any continued harassment of Ms. Greengrass is likely to get him hexed by the girl.”

Snape’s complexion grew even worse as Harry Potter was mentioned again.  “A good hexing might do him some good.  Or at least teach him when to keep his mouth shut.  I’ll step in if it gets out of hand.  How did _Potter_ end up with Crabbe and Goyle as valets?  I thought their families were House Malfoy Vassal Houses.”

“They are,” McGonagall said.  “Before swearing themselves in as Mr. Potter’s valets, they sent in testimony on the hippogriff incident that contradicts what Mr. Malfoy previously testified too.”

“Just as well they’re out of the Slytherin dorms then.  Draco isn’t going to take that well when he finds out.”

“Which is exactly why Ms. Greengrass suggested they become valets to Mr. Potter.   Quite intelligent that one – I’m surprised she’s not in Ravenclaw.”

“Intelligent as she is, her cunning far outstrips anything else,” Snape said, sounding slightly proud.  “That girl will go places, if Potter doesn’t drag her down.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that last part and allow you to finish your lunch in peace.  Oh dear, it looks like the confrontation is about to start,” McGonagall said, watching as Draco Malfoy made his way over to the Gryffindor table, where Crabbe and Goyle now sat.

* * *

 “Hey, what’re they doing here?” Ron asked, in between mouthfuls of food.

“Chew your food, Ronald, that’s disgusting,” Hermione said.  “We found a way to save Buckbeak and ruin Malfoy’s day in one fell swoop.  It means, however, that Vince and Greg here will be hanging out with us from now on.”

Ron didn’t look particularly convinced, but once he heard what Vince had to say he was all for it.

“Did you also know, that now anytime Draco comes to bother you, we can punch him in the face for you?” Vince asked Harry.

“Really?” Ron and Harry asked together.

“Well, _technically_ , there has to be some perceived threat,” Hermione said, “but considering one of the first things Malfoy ever said to you was that you’d go the same way as your parents if you weren’t careful, just coming over to insult you can be considered a threatening gesture, and therefore enough of a perceived threat for Vince or Greg to punch him in the face.”

“Greg should get first punch,” Vince said.  “Draco was really mean about his low blood sugar, and refused to let us summon a house-elf to help.”

Harry and Hermione both frowned and Harry said, “Well, feel free to summon a house-elf if you need one.  I mean, you don’t need to listen to Malfoy anymore, right?”

“Right,” Greg said.  “And I think my chance is coming up.”

Draco Malfoy was making his way over to the Gryffindor table, and he looked furious, “What in Merlin’s name are the two of you doing over here!?  The Slytherin table is over there!”

“We’re aware,” Vince said, gesturing to his robes which now sported the valet mark and the crest of House Potter.  Malfoy sputtered in shock looking between Vince and Greg’s robes which also sported the mark and crest.

“H-how, wh-when, wh-why!?  What the hell were you thinking!?”

“That you were a terrible boss, obviously,” Harry said.

Malfoy turned to Harry and went for his wand, “I’ll get you for this Pot-!”  He didn’t have time to finish as Greg punched him in the nose, resulting in a loud crunching sound.

* * *

 “What on earth?” Dumbledore said.  It was echoed by quite a few of the staff and students.

“Misters Crabbe and Goyle have become the personal valets of Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said.  “And, it appears, they take their duties very seriously.”

Snape sighed, “I suppose I should go scrape the boy off the floor before he earns himself another punch.  So much for a peaceful lunch.”

“Do try to get him to understand the new world order, won’t you?” McGonagall said, with more than a slight bit of amusement.

“I sincerely doubt it would make it past the large amount of hair gel on his head,” Snape muttered, standing up.  “Hair gel probably rotted whatever tiny amount of brain he had been born with.”

* * *

 Snape came to collect Malfoy off the floor, leaving the Gryffindors behind with a half-hearted, “Potter, ten points from Gryffindor for staring!  It’s quite rude, you know!”

“Damn, I was hoping Snape’d be slower and Malfoy’d get another punch to the face,” Ron said excitedly.  Hermione made a sound that sounded a lot like an agreement.

Their afternoon classes went by quickly and peacefully.  Pomfrey had agreed with Snape that keeping Draco Malfoy in the hospital wing for the rest of the day was a good idea.  She had also informed Snape that the scratch from Buckbeak was fully healed and, “How dare your student cast questions on my healing abilities Severus Snape!  I’m the reason you both still have noses, you know!  I could have let them fall off!”

After dinner, Harry, Hermione, Daphne, Vince, Greg, and Ron all followed McGonagall back to her office.  Throughout the day Harry and Hermione had been filling Ron in on all that had happened.

“Bill!” Ron cried out when he saw his oldest brother.

“Hey, Ron,” Bill said back.

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked.

“I was asked to come as part of the curse-breaking team to see Harry’s scar.  My bosses felt he might be most comfortable with me since I’m your older brother.”  The entire time Bill spoke, he was looking at Harry’s scar and frowning.  “Just a hunch, boss, but I think we need Rockgut here.”

A goblin Harry hadn’t met yet eyed Bill, “You’re one of the ones working in Egypt, ain’tcha?”

“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure that scar is a soul container.”

McGonagall and Daphne gasped, while the goblins growled.

“Is that was it sounds like?” Harry asked.  “Is there a soul inside my scar?  Is it mine?”

“We don’t know for sure, but it feels like one, and yes it is what it sound likes,” Bill said.  “And unless you’ve killed someone after preparing a ritual to sever a piece of your soul off, then no, it’s not yours.”

One person came to mind.

“Is it Voldemort’s?” Harry asked quietly.  Hermione and Ron hugged him.

“It’s possible,” Tarnok said.  “I’ll have Rockgut summoned immediately.  He is the top expert on soul containers.”

“I’ll get Albus,” McGonagall said, face strangely blank.  “He should see this.”

* * *

 The gargoyle shifting aside set off the notice ward, telling Dumbledore that someone was coming up the stairs.  The first sign of danger was when the door was slammed open so hard it almost came off the hinges.  A furious Minerva McGonagall stood in the doorway.

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!”

Oh dear.

“ _Even if I could I wouldn’t_ , you said!  _Scars can be very useful_ , you said!  You never mentioned it was a bloody horcrux!”

Dumbledore paled.  McGonagall pulled her wand out and hexed him, setting his beard on fire.  Dumbledore put it out calmly.

“His scar is a horcrux then?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I suspected, but I had no way of telling, and didn’t want to worry anyone with only a suspicion.”

McGonagall grabbed him by what remained of his beard and pulled him forward to smack him about the head.

“Why did you never think to call the goblins?  A few seconds in a room with him and one of the curse-breakers recognized it and had them send for the goblin expert on horcruxes!”

“I didn’t know they could,” Dumbledore said.  “I tried to look into horcruxes quietly, so no one loyal to Voldemort found out about them.  Nothing I found indicated goblins had anything on them.  If I had known, I would have taken Harry to them myself.”

McGonagall shook her finger furiously at him, “You’re damn lucky I believe you, Albus Dumbledore!”

Dumbledore looked mournfully down at the burnt ends of his beard, “Don’t I know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did Bill Weasley recognize the horcrux in Harry’s scar here but not in canon? My theory – he’s recently come across them in Egypt and remembers the feel. In canon, it’s been several years and while he recognizes the feeling he doesn’t recall why until the horcrux is mentioned after the war.


	5. 04: Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having done the horcrux removal in several of my other stories, I hope you don’t mind if I skip it this time. There’s only so many times the same characters can do the same scene before it gets old.

“What happened to Draco?” Lucius asked.  He had tried asking Draco earlier, but the bandages the healer had put on his face (so she didn’t have to hear him whine) had muffled the boy’s answers.  The only word Lucius had recognized was ‘Potter’ and that’s because he recognized the tone his son always said it in.

“Potter recently gained two personal valets,” Snape told him.  “When Draco went over to make his usual threats, one of them objected, physically.”

“I don’t suppose there’s anything that can be done?”

“I’m afraid not.  Draco was clearly seen going for his wand while saying ‘I’ll get you’.”

Lucius sighed.  “Who was the valet?”

Snape smirked, “Gregory Goyle.  The other is Vincent Crabbe by the way.”

“WHAT!?”

Severus Snape was not taking pleasure from Lucius’ reaction.  Really.  It’s not like the man was the reason he joined the Death Eaters, ended his first friendship with Lily Evans, and ended up as the godfather to the bane of his existence.

Oh, _wait_ , yes he was.  Severus Snape was definitely enjoying this.

“Next you’ll be telling me that bloody beast of Hagrid’s is getting off!” Lucius yelled.  As if in reply, an owl swooped through the nearest window and dropped a letter on Lucius’ head.  He read through it, crumpled it up, and threw it away, screaming in frustration.

Snape’s mood rose further.  And he hadn’t even informed Lucius about Potter being the Black Heir yet.

* * *

Draco, unable to communicate properly with his father, and therefore demand to know what was going on, picked up the letter and read through it.

_Dear Lord Malfoy,_

_Due to conflicting testimony from member(s) of one (or more) of your Vassal Houses, the testimony of your son, Draco Malfoy, is now in question.  You must bring your son to our offices for Veritaserum questioning by the end of the week._

_Failure to do so will result in the charges being dropped against the hippogriff, Buckbeak, but no charges will be brought against your son._

_If, however, your son reveals under Veritaserum that he lied about the incident, he may be charged with falsifying an official report._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_J. Shmidge_

_Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

Similar to his father, Draco crumpled up the letter and threw it away, screaming in frustration.  Unlike his father, he also flailed around.  He hit the edge of his bedpan with enough force to send it flying towards his face.

The bedpan smacked into his nose which gave off another crunching sound.  He began wailing in pain seconds afterwards.

* * *

Harry rubbed absently at his forehead again.  Although it didn’t hurt as bad as it did when they removed Voldemort’s soul piece, it still had some lingering ache.  Madam Pomfrey was summoned to McGonagall’s office to heal the scar over afterwards, and therefore missed when Draco broke his nose again.

Hermione had already told him it was getting lighter.

Dumbledore, who had hovered closely when the goblin Rockgut had removed the soul piece, had followed after him when he added the soul piece to a device that allowed him to track down any other pieces of the same soul.

“Wicked,” Ron had said, watching as the curse-breakers did their thing, casting spell after spell over Harry.

“You’ll need Ancient Runes at least, if you’re planning to be a career curse-breaker,” Bill told him.  “Arithmancy would help too.”

Ron groaned, “I took the wrong classes.”

“I can help you catch up,” Hermione said, “but _only_ if you actually put some effort into it.”

Bill nodded, “The better the grades you get, the more likely you are to get a job.  Even if you still plan to get a job as a quidditch player.  If two or more potential players are equal in skill, a high grade can make all the difference.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that, Hermione, at least for Runes.  I’m kind of tired of faking things for my future charts anyway.  There’s only so many ways a boy can possibly die.”

“I don’t suppose there’s room for one more,” Harry said hopefully.  “I’m tired of having my death predicted by Trelawney every time she sets her eyes on me.”

“The two of you will need to take placement tests at the beginning of next year, unless you manage to catch up by the end of this year to take the end-of-year exams,” McGonagall said.

“Alright, it looks like there is a redirect charm placed on you,” Bill said.  “Judging by the feel of the distance, I’d say somewhere in London.”  Bill drew a glowing blue ball of light from Harry’s arm and placed it in a jar.”

“We should be able to use this to find the previous mail,” Tarnok said, shaking the jar a little.  “I suggest allowing someone you trust to re-cast the spell on you however, to check for curses sent through the mail.”

“I use Gringotts,” Bill said.  “It costs a bit of money, but on the plus side, no howlers from Mum.”

“I bet Fred and George would love to know about that,” Ron said.

“Didn’t they turn your teddy bear into a spider once,” Hermione asked.

“I didn’t say I was gonna tell ‘em, Hermione,” Ron replied.

“How much does it cost?” Harry asked.

“Less than the Ministry,” Tarnok said, “and it depends on how long you want us to do it.  One galleon for a month, two galleons for three months, three galleons for six months, five galleons for a year, seven galleons for two years, nine galleons for three years, fifteen galleons for five years, or one hundred fifty galleons for life.”

“That’s less than the Ministry?” Ron asked.

“The Ministry charges you on a monthly basis only, twenty-five galleons,” Daphne told him.

“Can I afford the lifetime fee?” Harry said.  “I know how much fan-mail muggle celebrities get a day and I don’t want to risk a cursed letter getting through.”

“I do not know the exact number your wealth likes at,” Tarnok said, “but I know you’d be able to by the lifetime service for everyone at Hogwarts and not make so much as a dent in your money.”

“The whole school would be a bit much,” Harry said, “but I’d like to pay for lifetime service for myself and my friends that are here.”

His friends immediately began protesting.

“You guys are my friends,” Harry said.  “When people realize they can’t curse me through the mail, they may try to do it to you to get to me instead.”

“But that’ll cost you almost a thousand galleons,” Hermione said.

“Considering he’s buying so many at once, I think we can give him a discount,” Tarnok said.  “I’ll talk to the mail-sorting department about it.  In the meantime, Curse-Breaker Weasley, recast the charm on Mr. Potter, and attach it to this box.  We’ll return with other boxes to use for your friends.  And this, of course, is yours, Mr. Potter.”

Tarnok handed over another box.  Harry opened it and saw it had several different sections.

“Each section is attached to a partner box held by one of your account managers.  The box will glow blue when something new has arrived.  The section with something in it will also glow blue.  Please be sure to remove all papers from all sections before closing the box lid, because anything in them when it is shut will be sent back to the partner box.  You may use the box to store papers however, using this section here.  This one here is for any other incoming and outgoing mail now that we’ve had the redirect charm cast on you.  If there is a package waiting for you, the section will also have a green glowing dot in addition to the blue glow.  You will not be able to send packages through the other way, however.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Tarnok nodded, “You are welcome child.  If that is all, I’ll return to Gringotts and have more strongboxes sent through for the others.”

* * *

Cyril Greengrass spotted a beautiful snowy owl flying towards his office window.  He opened the window to allow the owl to come in and drop off its letter.  The owl dropped the letter on his desk and then flew over to the perch to await a reply.

_Dear Lord Greengrass,_

_My name is Harry Potter.  I recently took an inheritance test and found out I was the Black Heir, meaning the active marriage contract with your eldest daughter, Daphne, falls to me.  While I am perfectly happy to allow the contract to fall back into dormancy should Daphne wish it, I would like to allow it to remain for now, in no small part due to the fact that she will be legally entitled to curse Draco Malfoy should he continue to harass her as he has been._

_I am unaware if any of the Malfoy’s have been informed of this, but I don’t imagine they’ll be happy when they do.  I would also like to inform you that, as with my other friends, I have bought her Gringotts lifetime service of curse-checking mail, since they may be sent cursed mail because of my being a celebrity in the magical world._

_I hope you and the rest of your family are in good health._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

_Heir Potter_

_Heir Black_

Cyril rubbed his fingers through his beard, and then read the postscript, clearly added by his daughter Daphne.

_PS, Please excuse the slight crudeness of the letter Father.  Harry has had no formal training in the position of Heir or for his future Lordships.  It is because of this, and the fact that his current residence outside of Hogwarts is with magic-hating muggles, that I have invited him to spend the summer with our family.  Not only will we be able to help him with his future duties, but this will also allow you to get to know him before the marriage contract is required to be completed.  Harry currently has two personal valets, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who swore themselves to his service rather than remain under Draco Malfoy’s command as members of House Malfoy Vassal Houses._

Well now, that was almost as surprising as Harry Potter being the Black Heir.  He’d have to write back to his daughter and tell her that he approved of her actions, and send a thank you letter to the Potter boy as well.


	6. 05: Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew

The rest of the week passed quietly.  The biggest occurrence of the week had been Draco Malfoy having been let out of the Hospital Wing only to put himself right back in it when he attempted to curse Daphne and Harry after finding out he wasn’t actually the Black Heir as he had thought.

Vince had punched him in his newly fixed nose, breaking it again, followed by Daphne casting curse after hex after jinx at him until Snape came to take him away again.  Snape had of course taken points from Gryffindor (for breathing to loudly in my presence, Potter) and given some to Slytherin (an excellent combination of bowel-loosening curse and constipation hex, Ms. Greengrass.  Madam Pomfrey will be delighted to see the effects of both cast at once) before disappearing with Malfoy.

Finally, a letter came from Gringotts, who had found all of Harry’s mail, locked away in a room deep in the Department of Mysteries.  They had apparently been sending Harry letters about what he wanted to have done with it all, but had failed to add their own owls to the allowed senders list and their letters sat in the same pile as all the rest.  Hedwig, being Harry’s owl, had been exempt from the charm, as had all Hogwarts owls.  Errol had just been too lazy to follow the redirect and took the letters from the Weasleys straight to Harry.

Gringotts was going through the large piles of mail, and sending the non-cursed letters and packages through.  Daphne suggested putting a message out in the Daily Prophet about the mix up.  Harry was slightly wary about doing so, but Hermione had agreed.  It ended up as the front page of the next delivery.

* * *

**_Boy-Who-Lived’s Mail Held From Him_ **

**_A Plea From Harry Potter To Be Patient_ **

_Harry Potter, third year student at Hogwarts, and world renowned Boy-Who-Lived, has never once replied back to a letter sent to him, or given thanks for presents sent to him, and now we know why!_

_A redirect charm had been cast on young Harry Potter by an unknown member of the Ministry of Magic.  Harry, too young to remember, was unaware of the redirect until one of his friends, fellow Gryffindor Hermione Granger, questioned why a celebrity of his status didn’t get any fan-mail.  Gringotts immediately began investigating and found Harry’s mail gathering dust in an otherwise unused room in the Ministry._

_According to reports, members of the Ministry had tried to owl Harry about what he wanted to do with the mail, but forgot to put their owls on the allowed sender list and so their own letters were caught in the redirect charm._

_Gringotts has taken control of the redirect at Harry’s request, and the mail that the Ministry had been collecting for him and will be going through it to check for and sort out any cursed or otherwise bespelled letters._

_Harry Potter had this to say in a letter penned to us here at the Daily Prophet, “It didn’t even occur to me that I should be getting any fan-mail.  I’ve always thought of myself as just Harry.  I will be replying personally to every letter and sending out thank you notes, but as there is a lot of mail to go through, it may take some time before I get finished.  I’d like to ask the people who have sent me mail over the years to please be patient.  The goblins have been kind enough to sort the mail for me by person so that I can thank people for what they have sent me and reply to them in one larger letter.”_

_There you have it, Harry Potter hasn’t been able to reply to our letters thanks to the Ministry’s mistake, but Gringotts is helping him go through it so he can send his replies now.  I look forward to my own letter from Harry, as I have sent him many over the years, as I’m sure many of you have done._

_-Jacintha McKinnon, Daily Prophet_

* * *

They went to visit Hagrid shortly after the delivery of the Daily Prophet.  As Draco Malfoy had spent the remainder of the week in the Hospital Wing, he failed to make it to the DRCMC in time to give Veritaserum testimony, not that his father would have taken him after finding out he was lying.

“Didja hear?” Hagrid asked.  “Buckbeak got off!  Something off with Malfoy’s testimony the letter said!”

Hagrid was grinning widely as he spoke.

“That was Vince and Greg here,” Daphne said.  “They gave contradictory testimony and Malfoy didn’t go to give Veritaserum testimony.”

Tears came to Hagrid’s eyes, “Ya did that for to save Beaky?”

Vince and Greg shrugged.  “You helped us out last year,” Greg said, “and keep giving me muggle candy to help with my blood sugar.”

Hagrid sniffed and then grabbed them both in a big bear hug.  For the rest of their visit, Hagrid’s grin stayed plastered on his face.

* * *

January faded into February.  On the day of the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw quidditch game, Draco Malfoy broke his nose again, pretending to be a dementor to scare Harry during the game.  Vince and Greg both got to punch him, along with Flint who was also dressed as a dementor.

That night, Ron woke them screaming.  Sirius Black stood over his bed with knife in hand.  Knowing that Harry was regularly said to be Sirius Black’s target Vince and Greg both tackled him.  Vince slammed his face into the floor a few times, before he could throw them off and escape.

Scabbers took off for the door, only to be pounced upon by Hermione’s cat Crookshanks.  Scabbers squealed in terror and pain which turned into a bellow as quickly as Scabbers himself turned into man.

“Stupid cat!” the man roared, kicking Crookshanks away.

Vince and Greg looked at the man, then each other, and for good measure tackled him too.  The man’s head slammed into the floor with a loud crack.

“What in Merlin’s name is going on in here?” Percy Weasley demanded, entering the room.  He stared at the two unconscious men in shock.

“Sirius Black!” Seamus yelled, pointing at the Azkaban escapee.

“Who cares about Black!?” Ron yelled, pointing at the man that was once his pet ret.  “That was Scabbers!  I let him sleep in my bed!”

“Scabbers?” Percy asked, staring at the other man in alarm.

“Well, what’re you waiting for!?” Dean asked.  “Go get McGonagall!  Or better yet, Dumbledore!”

Percy pulled himself out of his shock, nodded, and raced out of the room, planning on getting both of the people that Dean suggested.

* * *

Percy returned quickly with McGonagall and Dumbledore hot on his heels.

“My word!” McGonagall said, catching sight of the first unconscious man.  “Peter Pettigrew!”

“So it seems,” Dumbledore said.  “It appears that the rumors of his death were highly exaggerated.”

“He was my rat!” Ron yelled.  “He slept in my bed!  Next to me!”

Dumbledore leaned down and lifted up Pettigrew’s sleeve, revealing a tattoo of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth.  McGonagall gasped loudly.

“But, that’s not possible,” Percy said.  “Black killed Pettigrew, or at least had hunted him down and attacked him.  Why would Black try and kill someone on his own side?  Someone that also worked for You-Know-Who?”

“And why keep trying?” Harry asked.  “Black must’ve known it was the Halloween feast when he tried to enter the Gryffindor dorms – he had to have passed the Great Hall, right?  And he specifically opened Ron’s curtains – not mine – _Ron’s_.  He’s been trying to get to Scabbers, er, Pettigrew this entire time, hasn’t he?”

“What if?” Neville said, speaking up for the first time that night.  All eyes turned to him and he began blushing and stammering.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Longbottom,” Dumbledore said.  “Please continue.”

“Well, Black and Harry’s father were really good friends right?”

“Blood brothers,” Harry said.

“And everyone knew that, when the Potters went into hiding, Black was their Secret Keeper, right?  But what if he wasn’t?  Everyone expected it to be him, I mean, so the smart thing to do would be to tell everyone it was him, but really have the Secret Keeper be someone else.”

“No one would have expected Pettigrew,” McGonagall whispered.  “Not a single person would have ever thought of him as the Secret Keeper.  Or the spy within the Order.  Oh, Albus, they had only cast the charm a week before…before….”

“Before Peter Pettigrew gave the secret of their location to Voldemort,” Dumbledore finished for her. “Sirius must have been so distraught to see two of his best friends dead.  He even leant his bike to Hagrid, if you’ll recall, to get Harry safely away from the house.  And then he went after Peter here.”

“And Pettigrew fooled us all into thinking that Sirius had betrayed the Potters, betrayed us all.  Oh, Albus, what have we done?  We left the poor boy to rot in Azkaban!”

“We couldn’t have known, Minerva.  Pettigrew was very cunning to pull one over on all of us.  I imagine he chose to stay with the Weasleys to keep an ear out for news of his master’s return, biding his time to bring Harry into Voldemort’s grasp.”

“That bastard!” Percy yelled, rushing forward to kick Pettigrew in the face.

“Mr. Weasley!” McGonagall yelled in shock.

“He deserves it!” Percy yelled.  “I let him sleep in my bed too!  What if he did something to me or Ron while we were sleeping!?  What if he did something to any of our dorm mates while we were sleeping!?”

Everyone in the room gained a sickly green hue to their skin.

“Even worse, what if his animagus form let him get past the charm on stairs to the girls’ dorms?” Percy continued.

“I think, Minerva, it’s time to call Amelia Bones.  And St. Mungo’s,” Dumbledore said. “I want every student in this castle to be given a full physical, and Poppy’s still busy with Mr. Malfoy’s habit of breaking his nose.”

McGonagall nodded, “Mr. Weasley, wake everyone in Gryffindor.  Take all the students to the Great Hall immediately, and sit them by year.  I’ll have Severus, Filius, and Pomona rouse their own charges, and tell the elves to add extra tables.”

Percy nodded, and went to wake the other prefects first, to help with waking the others.


	7. 06: Questioning

Amelia Bones sleepily dragged herself to the fireplace, “Professor McGonagall?  What is it?”

“We need you at Hogwarts, Madam Bones,” McGonagall said.  “We’ve found Sirius Black _and_ Peter Pettigrew.”

The name Black alone would have woken her up instantly, but, “Professor, did you say Peter _Pettigrew_?”

“I did,” McGonagall confirmed.  “Please floo to Albus’ office.  Healers from St. Mungo’s will be using my floo.  Pettigrew has been living in one of our dorms as a rat.  Albus has ordered that every student at Hogwarts receive a full physical.”

“I’ll get dressed and collect some of my aurors and we’ll be right through,” Amelia said.

“Thank you,” McGonagall said.  “Oh, and before I forget, Albus wanted me to ask you to bring some Veritaserum.  With Pettigrew alive, there is some confusion regarding the truth of what really happened that night.”

Amelia nodded, “I will.”

As soon as McGonagall disconnected the floo from her end, Amelia began contacting several of her most trustworthy aurors, and the most discreet of the Ministry’s potions masters.  There was no sense in letting Fudge or someone loyal to him know what was going on until she knew exactly what was going on, lest Fudge do something stupid like try to have both Black and Pettigrew kissed before she could interrogate them.

* * *

The students trooped sleepily into the Great Hall, most grumbling half-heartedly about being woken up.

“I’d say good morning to you all, but is entirely too early for the morning to be good,” Flitwick told them.  “As you can see, we are not sitting down with our houses, but rather with our years.  First years to the table at the back of the hall, second years to the table in front of that, and so on and so forth.  Do **not** start fights with your yearmates.  Anyone who does will lose one hundred points and gain one month worth of detentions with either Mr. Filch or Professor Snape, for each incident they start.  Please take your seats now.  Healers will be here shortly.”

Noise erupted into the hall as students began sitting by their yearmates, all of them trying to figure out why they were sitting by year and why healers were coming.  Rather than sit with the other Slytherins, excluding Malfoy who was still in the Hospital Wing, Daphne sat with the Gryffindors.

“What happened?” she asked.

“What makes you think we know?” Ron grumbled, sleepy again now that both intruders had been taken away.

“Whenever something happens in this school it’s either because of Malfoy or because of you, Harry, and Hermione, and Malfoy’s still in the Hospital Wing, so by default it has to be one of you.”

“Sirius Black showed up in our dorms,” Harry said.  “So did Peter Pettigrew.”

“Peter Pettigrew?  Wasn’t he killed by Sirius Black?” Daphne asked.

“Apparently not,” Harry said.

“Dumbledore said it best,” Seamus said, and then he cleared his throat and gave the best Dumbledore impression he could, “It appears the rumors of Pettigrew’s death were highly exaggerated.”

“But if Black didn’t kill Pettigrew, who’s to say he did any of the other things he was accused of,” Daphne asked.

“Neville had a pretty good theory,” Dean said.  Neville blushed again.  “Oh, go on Nev.”

“Well, it’s just, Black and Harry’s dad were really good friends, blood brothers Harry said earlier, so everyone would expect him to be the Secret Keeper.  But what if, instead, everyone was told he was the Secret Keeper when it was really someone else?”

“Like Pettigrew,” Daphne realized.  “Did either of them have the Dark Mark on their arm?”

“Pettigrew did,” Ron said, yawning.  “We didn’t check Black, though.  Dumbledore had McGonagall call the aurors and for them to bring some truth serum.”

“Obviously, he’d have to,” Daphne said, nodding.  “What are the healers coming for?”  The Gryffindors turned slightly green.

“Pettigrew’s an animagus,” Hermione said weakly.  “There’s some worry that he may have used that animagus form to gain access to the students to, well, perform sexual acts with them.”

Daphne turned green too, “They think he might have…oh.  Now, I’m glad the healers are coming to check for signs.”

“You’re not the only one,” Ron said.  “He was my pet rat.  He was sleeping in my bed every night.”

“Dumbledore’s ordered full physicals for all students, just in case,” Harry said.

“And Ron’s brother got a couple good kicks to Pettigrew’s face,” Seamus said.

“Percy,” Ron clarified.  “Scabbers was his pet first.”

* * *

“I almost didn’t believe it,” Amelia said.  “That really is Peter Pettigrew.”

“How can you tell?” Auror Tonks asked.  “His face is all messed up.”

“Percy Weasley took offence to him hiding as his and his brother’s pet rat,” McGonagall said.

“I went to school with the Marauders.  I was a few years ahead of them, of course, but Pettigrew slapped Roslyn Fawley’s ass in my sixth year.  She took offence and did something very similar to that.”

“I remember that,” McGonagall said.  “It took Poppy three hours to put all his teeth back in correctly.  I believe Roslyn’s nephew, Sullivan, is one of Pomona’s students.”

“I’d say let’s start with Black, but he looks just as bad,” Amelia said.

McGonagall nodded, “Mr. Potter recently gained two valets.  They hopped on Black and smashed his face into the floor before Pettigrew showed himself.”

“Right,” Amelia said.  “I know a couple of field-healing spells; they’ll leave some crooks in their faces, but I don’t particularly care at the moment.  Give me a moment."  Amelia first cast the spells on Black, then on Pettigrew.  “There we are.  Dose Black first and then wake him up.”

The potions master, Claudius Selwyn, administered the Veritaserum and then stepped back and allowed Kingsley Shacklebolt to wake Black up.  Black stared glassy-eyed at them.

Amelia set up a dicta-quill and began speaking, “Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Aurors Tonks and Shacklebolt, interrogating prisoners Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew dosed with Veritaserum by potions master Claudius Selwyn, on the night, no, very early morning of February 6th, 1994.  Mr. Black, please state your full name and date of birth for the record.”

“Sirius Orion Black.  November 3rd, 1959.”

“As a test question to test that the Veritaserum has taken effect…was it you that stole Marlene McKinnon’s panties in your sixth year at Hogwarts?”

“No.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Yes?”

“Who?”

“It was James Potter.”

“Good.  It’s working.”

“How did you know it was James Potter,” Tonks asked.

“I had Potter dosed once, and Marlene asked him.  Mr. Black, are you or have you ever been a Death Eater?”

“No.”

“Are you or have you ever been in any way a supporter of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort?”

“No.”

“Were you the Secret Keeper of the Potter Family the night they died on October 31st, 1981?”

“No.”

“Do you know who was?”

“Yes.”

“Who was the Secret Keeper?”

“Peter Pettigrew.”

“Is that why you hunted down Pettigrew after you found the Potter’s dead?”

“Yes, partially.”

“Partially?  Explain.”

“I am Harry’s godfather.  I was supposed to take him if something ever happened to James and Lily, but Hagrid was already there and was under orders to take him to Dumbledore.  Since Harry was being seen to, I decided to take the time to hunt down Pettigrew.”

“When you found Pettigrew, why did he accuse you of betraying the Potters?”

“Everyone thought I was the Secret Keeper.  It was to throw suspicion off of him.”

“Did you cast the spell that made the street explode and kill a dozen muggles on November 1st, 1981?”

“No.”

“Do you know who did?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Peter Pettigrew.”

“Why did none of this come out at your trial?”

“Because I never received a trial?”

“What do you mean you never received a trial?”

“I, a singular pronoun used when speaking of oneself; never, not ever; received-“

“Stop defining words, you prat,” Amelia said.  “How did you come to be in Azkaban if you didn’t have a trial?  All Death Eaters were given trials, and you were thought to be one at the time.”

“Crouch told Bagnold there was no need for a trial with so much evidence against me.”

“Why would he have done that?  Crouch knew we were supposed to try everyone we arrested before sending them to Azkaban.”

“I’m not completely sure.”

“But you believe you know a reason?”

“Yes.”

“Then why?  Why did he do it?”

“I had seen his son hanging out with my cousin Bellatrix a few weeks before Halloween and had warned him about it.  I believe he wanted me out of the way to insure my silence.  Didn’t work out so well for him considering the boy ended up in Azkaban anyway.”

“Right.  I’ll be paying him a visit later.  Time to does Pettigrew.  Master Selwyn, if you would please.”

Selwyn dosed Pettigrew and Shacklebolt woke him up.

“Mr. Pettigrew, please state your full name and date of birth for the record.”

“Peter Matthew Pettigrew.  June 19th, 1960.”

“Now for a test question…”

“Did you steal the chocolates from Remus’ trunk in our fourth year?” Black asked.

“Yes.”

“How about mine and James’ underwear in sixth year?”

“Yes.”

“You are one sick and twisted little rat.”

“Did you already have the answers to those?” Amelia asked.

“The first one yes, the second no.  He answered correctly.”

“Good enough for me.  Mr. Pettigrew, are you or have you ever been a Death Eater?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever kill anyone while you were in the service of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever torture anyone while you were in the service of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort?”

“Yes.”

“Were you the Secret Keeper of the Potter Family the night they died on October 31st, 1981?”

“Yes.”

“Did you cast the spell that made the street explode and kill a dozen muggles on November 1st, 1981?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that makes things pretty straightforward.  Amelia Bones, ending interrogation.”  Amelia took the dicta-quill away from the parchment and made a copy.  She scribbled a few things on it and then gestured to Dumbledore’s phoenix, “Would you mind if I asked Fawkes to deliver this for me?”

“Go ahead,” Dumbledore said.

“Fawkes, would you take this and leave it on the Daily Prophet’s editor-in-chief’s desk?”

Fawkes gave an affirmative trill and grabbed the parchment before disappearing in a flash of flame.

“The editor-in-chief’s desk, Amelia?” Dumbledore asked, giving her an amused smile.

“We both know Fudge will try to cover this up, possibly by kissing both of them,” Amelia said, gesturing to Black and Pettigrew.  “Now, he won’t be able to without looking bad in the public’s eye, and that is something Cornelius Fudge will do his damnedest to avoid.”


	8. 07: The Minister's Office

  **Sirius Black Innocent!**

**_Peter Pettigrew Found Alive With Dark Mark On Arm!_ **

**_Black Sent To Azkaban Without Trial!_ **

_From an unnamed source deep within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I bring you the astonishing news that Sirius Black, the notorious Death Eater that betrayed the Potters to You-Know-Who and then killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles, is in fact **not** a Death Eater, didn’t betray the Potters, and hasn’t killed anyone._

_The true culprit of that night was Peter Pettigrew, posthumous winner of the Order of Merlin, First Class, recently found hiding in his unregistered animagus form, that of a rat, within the halls of Hogwarts itself, with the Dark Mark on his arm.  But, why didn’t this come out at his trial, you ask?  Sirius Black, then heir to the Black title, and now Lord Black, was never given a trial.  According to my source, Sirius Black had seen Barty Crouch Junior hanging around with his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange and Crouch Senior wanted to have him kept quiet._

_Due to the discovery of Pettigrew in Hogwarts, Healers have been summoned to assess the students and insure nothing uncivilized happened._

_How could the Ministry allow an innocent man languish in prison?  How could the Ministry award a living Death Eater with a posthumous Order of Merlin?  How many other people sitting in Azkaban are there without trial?  I, the tireless crusader of knowledge, will seek out these answers and set them free for all to know._

_For a transcript of the interrogation of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, turn to page 7._

_-Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet_

* * *

Cornelius Fudge spit out his coffee at the sight of the morning paper’s headlines.  His surprise quickly turned to horror as he read the article, and then the printed transcript.  He rushed over to his fireplace, throwing in the floo powder and yelling out.

“Delores!  De-lor-es! Delor-oh, there you are!  Have you seen the Prophet this morning?”

“I have,” Delores Umbridge simpered at him.

“We need a battle plan,” Cornelius said.

“I’ll ready the dementors,” Delores said.

“We need to – wait, what? – no, Delores, no dementors.  Why do you always want to set the dementors on people?  No, never mind, I don’t want to know.  Get me Amelia Bones and Barty Crouch in my office immediately.  I’ll be at the Ministry shortly.”

Delores pouted at the order for no dementors, but replied, “Of course, Cornelius.  I’ll do that at once!”

* * *

 Amelia glanced again at the summons to the Minister’s office, and pulled out two pieces of paper, one each from the two bags that sat in a warded cupboard, hidden in the wall.  The first said ‘Jack’ and the second said ‘Shawls’.  She looked up at the Wall of Shame, a list of names written on one of her walls, hidden by a large poster her monocle was charmed to see through, and pursued the list with a keen eye.

“Well,” she said to herself, “there’s no _Jack_ Shawls up her, but there is a John Shawls.  Looks like only a few years ago.  Must have been his older brother or cousin.  How horrible that two members of the same family would have both talked to the press.”

With a non-existent scapegoat on hand, Amelia Bones walked briskly to the elevator.  It wouldn’t do to keep the Minister waiting, especially now that she had ‘found’ the leak in her office.  She’d add Jack’s name to the wall later in the day.

* * *

Fudge looked about ready to blow his top when Amelia entered his office,” Amelia, I want to know just what-!”

“Before you say anything else, Minister,” Amelia said, cutting off what was sure to be a very ~~boring~~ scathing rant, “I just want you to know that I have found the leak in my office and dealt with it personally.  Jack Shawls won’t be getting any new information to give to any reporters since I fired him this morning.  I also took the liberty of destroying anything he ever worked on or that even mentioned his name.  That way if he tries to sell any more information to the prophet, we can _honestly_ say he’s never worked here.  After all, if there’s no proof he worked here, then quite clearly he never did.”

Umbridge glared beady-eyed at her, frowning in suspicion.  Barty Crouch however, gave her an amused look, having used a similar system to hers when ‘finding leaks’ after talking to the press.

“Yes, well, that’s wonderful,” Fudge said.  “So there are no more leaks in your office?”

“None that I am aware of,” Amelia said.  “If there turns out to be another one, I’ll do the same to them.”

“Good, good, now, Barty, what’s this about Sirius Black and your son?”

“Sirius Black did bring me such information, yes,” Barty said.  “I confronted my son shortly afterwards, and he told me that they had been trying to recruit him for the Dark Lord, but that he had resisted their attempts.  We all know now that he was lying, but at the time I believed him.”

“So you didn’t throw Black in jail without a trial because you wanted to keep it quiet?” Umbridge asked.

“Of course not,” Barty said.  “He was in a holding cell, yes, but his trial was on the dockets, waiting to be held.”

“What about when you told Bagnold that there wasn’t a need for a trial with so much evidence?” Amelia asked.

“I did tell Bagnold that there was _practically_ no need for a trial with all the evidence against him,” Crouch said, “right before telling her that _not_ having a trial for the one who betrayed the Potters was a bad idea.  While we hadn’t gotten to his trial while I was head of the DMLE, I assumed he had had one after I was demoted.  As I had no way of confirming that, however, I could be wrong.”

Amelia nodded.  Barty Crouch Sr. was not the head of the Crouch Family – that honor belonged to another branch of the family – so when he lost his place as the head of the DMLE, he lost his spot on the Wizengamot, which always oversaw trials.

“Then we can assume that his memory has been influenced by his time with the Dementors,” Amelia said.  “I’ll have the healers at St. Mungo’s look at him closely.”

“St. Mungo’s?” Umbridge asked.  “Surely you’ve put the man back in Azkaban where he belongs?”

“Have you not been listening, Umbridge?  Sirius Black never had a trial!” Amelia said.  “Ergo, he does not belong in Azkaban, and has not belonged in Azkaban for the past decade!”

“Shall I go through our records and see why he was never given a trial?” Barty asked.

“Yes, yes, you go do that,” Fudge said.  “Let’s make sure none of this comes back to bite any of us in the arse.  Clearly you gave Bagnold the advice to go through with Black’s trial and she never did, so this whole thing is her fault.  Amelia, you should bring her in for questioning.”

“Considering she’s retired to the Bahamas,” Amelia said, “I don’t think I’ll be getting her back here willingly.”

“So take some aurors with you.  Use Veritaserum if you have to!  I want to get to the bottom of this before the press eats us alive!”

“That leaves us with one other point from the article,” Amelia said.  “If Bagnold could do this to one person, she and those before her could have done this to others.  We need to do a prisoner audit and go through every one of the Wizengamot trial files to insure no one innocent is in there.”

“Every one?” Umbridge said.  “Surely you don’t think Cornelius could have done such a thing.”

“Cornelius?  No, of course not,” Amelia said, giving Umbridge a pointed look that silently said, ‘You on the other hand’.  “However, if we were to go through all the files except those that had been done under his administration, then it would look like we were hiding something.”

“And you all know how Rita Skeeter _loves_ when it looks like we’re hiding something,” Barty said.

“And if she thinks we’re hiding something, she’ll go digging,” Amelia added.

“And who knows what she’ll find if she goes digging.”

“Or, if she can’t find anything, what she’ll make up for ratings.”

“Alright, alright!” Fudge said.  “Go through all the records, do the prisoner audit, dose Bagnold with Veritaserum, whatever you have to do to get the press off our backs!”

“Of course sir,” Amelia said.  “I’ll send my best aurors after Bagnold, collect Azkaban’s prisoner logs myself, and send Barty some help in the records room.  We really should get this done as quickly as possible, after all.”

“Yes, yes, as quickly as possible,” Fudge muttered, waving them out of the room.  “Delores, I need coffee.”

“Of course, Cornelius,” Umbridge simpering was the last thing Barty and Amelia heard before shutting the door behind them.  They looked at each other and then shivered simultaneously.

“I don’t understand how he can stand that horrible toady hanging off him like that,” Barty said.

“You obviously haven’t met his wife,” Amelia said.  “Much worse than Delores Umbridge.”

“Impossible.”

“You really _haven’t_ met his wife, have you?”  Barty shook his head.  Amelia shivered again, “Be glad.  Be very, very glad.”

* * *

Hours later, Amelia wasn’t particularly happy to be setting foot on Azkaban Island.  It may have been the prison that held the dementors, but the whole island was infested with their aura of cold and despair.  Having only been to Azkaban during a prisoner escort twice before, Amelia didn’t notice the effects of the dementors’ aura getting worse until she sighted two of them flying towards her and the boatman.

“That’s not good,” the boatman said.  “They never move like that unless they’re – oh, Merlin – they’re coming to feed on us!”

“Surely not,” Amelia said, but she took her wand out anyway.  When the two dementors didn’t slow as they got closer, Amelia cast, “Expecto Patronum!”  A silvery dolphin erupted from her wand and began circling her and the boatman.  The dementors stopped suddenly, just short of them, and then began floating around them, avoiding the dolphin when it tried to hit them.


	9. 08: The Ministry of Magic vs. Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delores just can’t resist setting the dementors on somebody.

“Hey there!  What do you think you’re doing!” the warden called out, running at them.  “You can’t just go attacking people without authorization!  Get back to the prisoner levels!”

One of the dementors made a rattling sound at him.

“What do you mean you had authorization!?  I certainly didn’t give it!  I’m terribly sorry, Amelia, I’ll have this fixed up in a jiffy.”

“Take your time, Chris,” Amelia said.  “I’ll be here for a few days.”

The dementor rattled again, and pulled a piece of parchment from its tattered robes, handing it over to the warden.

“What in Merlin’s name?” he muttered, reading it.  He waved it at the dementor, “This _is_ authorization, but it’s under false pretenses.  That’s why you’re supposed to come see _me_ before doing anything!  Ugh, I swear, you lot have gotten harder to deal with since they sent Bob with that group to Hogwarts.”

“What does it say, Chris?”  Amelia asked.  Then, after a pause, she added, “Bob?”

“Ay, Bob, the one that usually gets the authorization letters.  Joe’s not nearly as good at the job.”

The dementor rattled off again, sounding annoyed.

“Don’t rattle at me,” Chris said.   “It’s not my fault you suck at the job.  It’s why Bob got it in the first place.”

“Winters, don’t make me kick you.  What’s it say?”

“Oh, here,” Chris said, handing over the parchment.

_Form DK-130B_

_Authorization for Dementor’s Kiss_

_Target: Amelia Bones, witnesses_

_Reason: Treason_

_Dementor: Any_

_Authorized by: Delores Umbridge, Undersecretary to the Minister_

“Why that toad-faced bitch,” Amelia muttered.  “Treason, my arse.  I’ll show her treason, once I get my hands around her neck.”

“Eh, we get things forms like that from her every few days.  I usually floo your office to confirm the orders before letting the dementors loose.”

“I don’t suppose you still have those authorization forms?”

“Every single one,” Chris said.  “Bitch called me a mudblood shitstain that deserved to be drowned at birth first time we met.”

Amelia and Chris shared a vicious grin that made the boatman and the dementors nervous.  Joe the Dementor wondered if he’d be receiving an authorization form to give Umbridge the kiss next.

Probably not, Joe decided, but if the woman ever came to Azkaban, well…while Bob was away, accidents tended to happen.

* * *

Four days later, Cornelius Fudge’s leg was bouncing up and down in nervousness.  He checked his watch again.  “Oh, where is Delores?  She’s late.”  Amelia gave him a sidelong glance, doing her best to keep the satisfied smirk off of her face.  Fudge would be getting a surprise later on.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” the bailiff called out.  “We open emergency meeting of the august Wizengamot, this 10th day of February.  Chief Warlock, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, is presiding over the meeting.”

“Good morning, everyone,” Dumbledore said.  “As you may have seen from recent Daily Prophet articles, there has been some evidence brought to light that may confirm Sirius Black’s innocence.  Rather than wait another week and a half to clear it up, it was decided that an emergency meeting would be called.  I’m glad to see you have all arrived safely.  In addition to Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, I hear we also have other trials that are related to them.  All in favor of using Veritaserum to get to the truth quickly and be done with it?”

Annoyed at being called to a meeting in the middle of the week, many of the Wizengamot members voted to use Veritaserum so they could get the trials done quickly and leave.

“Excellent, we have a majority.  If you’ll also take notice of our public seating, you’ll notice several reporters are here today, to write accurate reports of today’s proceedings.  Now, we shall begin.  Amelia, if you would.”

Amelia nodded and made her way towards the floor, “Bailiff, if you will read off the first trial.”

“The Ministry of Magic vs. Sirius Black, in the case of the Potter’s murders, and the North Street explosion murders,” the bailiff read off of his cards.

“Most excellent, thank you,” Amelia said.  “Aurors, bring in the prisoner.”

Sirius Black was led into the room, looking cleaner, better shaved, and less bloodied than their last meeting at Hogwarts.  He sat in the chair in the center of the room and dosed with Veritaserum.

“As he was dosed before and interrogated on the events of those two nights, I will only ask a few questions to confirm the transcript you all have in front of you.  Mr. Black, to confirm the serum is working, when was the first time you tried to get into my pants?”

“In my first year,” Sirius answered.  “You smacked me.  Twice.”

“Correct.  Are you or have you ever been a Death Eater or otherwise supported the Dark Lord known as Voldemort?”

“No.”

“Were you the Secret Keeper of the Potter Family on the night of their deaths, therefore handing them over to Voldemort to be killed?”

“No.”

“Did you cast an explosion charm at the street on the day you confronted Peter Pettigrew, therefore killing a dozen muggles?”

“No.”

“Thank you.  I believe that is all the questions we have for you today.  Give him the antidote.”

“How did you escape Azkaban!?” Malfoy called out, before they could.

“I used my animagus form.”

“I don’t believe he is registered,” Malfoy said.  “Perhaps he should be sent back to Azkaban.”

“Being an unregistered animagus rarely receives time in Azkaban, of which he’s already spent over a decade in anyway,” Dumbledore said.

“Besides, his animagus form, while not registered, was known to the head of the DMLE at the time.  He was given permission to keep it off the registry during the war since he was an Auror at the time.  After the war’s end, he didn’t exactly have time to register it,” Amelia said.

“How can we be sure you’re not covering for him,” Malfoy said.

“Is there any reason in particular you wish an innocent man in Azkaban, Lucius?” Amelia asked.  “I’m sure all of us, including the reporters, would like to know.”

Malfoy glanced at the reporters and then sat back down, “I have no further questions.”

“Yes, well then,” Dumbledore said.  “Shall we vote on whether Sirius is Black is guilty or not?”

Only a few Wizengamot members voted guilty, including Lucius Malfoy.  The quills of the reporters made loud scratching noises as they rushed to write down everything, Rita Skeeter’s poisonous green quill moving the fastest.

“Mr. Black, you are cleared of all charges,” Dumbledore said.  “You may take your seat among us, or allow your proxy to continue to vote on your behalf, although you will not be able to change your proxy until our next actual meeting.”

“Who’s my proxy?” Sirius asked.  All eyes in the room turned to Lucius Malfoy, who glared at Sirius.  “Absolutely not.  I’ll vote on my own behalf thank you.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said.  He waited until Sirius was seated in the Black seat and then moved on, “Due to the matter of illegal incarceration in Azkaban, the law states the Ministry must pay compensation to Mr. Black.  At least forty percent of that compensation must be monetary, and at least ten percent must be in deeds to property.  The exact amount of compensation to Mr. Black will be decided in our next meeting, after we have taken stock of the Ministry’s coffers.  Bailiff, our next case?”

“The Ministry of Magic vs. Peter Pettigrew, in the case of the Potter’s murders, and the North Street explosion murders,” the bailiff said.

“Bring in the prisoner,” Amelia said.

Where Sirius Black had calmly walked into the room, flanked on each side by an Auror, Peter Pettigrew had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the room and forced into the chair, where chains wrapped around him to prevent his escape.  He fought his hardest to prevent the Veritaserum from being placed in his mouth but failed.

“Like with Sirius Black, I will only be asking a few questions to confirm the transcripts you already have in front of you.  Mr. Pettigrew, to confirm the Veritaserum is working, how many times did you try to bite Auror Shacklebolt on the way here from your cell?”

“Seventeen times,” Pettigrew answered.  Amelia looked at Shacklebolt, who nodded.

“Correct.  Are you or have you ever been a Death Eater or otherwise supported the Dark Lord known as Voldemort?”

“Yes.”

“Were you the Secret Keeper of the Potter Family on the night of their deaths, therefore handing them over to Voldemort to be killed?”

“Yes.”

“Did you cast an explosion charm at the street on the day Sirius Black confronted you, therefore killing a dozen muggles?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all the questions I’m asking Pettigrew today.  Give him the antidote.  Chief Warlock?”

“We shall now vote on Peter Pettigrew’s guilt or innocence.”  The vote for Pettigrew’s guilt was near unanimous.  Only Lucius Malfoy voted innocent.  He might have chosen otherwise if he had seen the horrible grin that his actions had given Rita Skeeter.

“Given the horrible nature of the crimes he committed, and the fact that he framed one of our own members for his misdeeds,” Dumbledore said, “the law states that his only options are Azkaban for Life or the Dementor’s Kiss.  We will now vote between the two.”

Pettigrew wailed and struggled as much as the chains would allow him as the Wizengamot voted on his sentence.  When the vote was over, Dumbledore looked at the tally and sighed.

“For his crimes, Peter Pettigrew has been sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss.  Aurors, take him away.”  Pettigrew wailed louder as he was dragged out of the chair and out of the room by Aurors.  “Bailiff, our third case?”

The bailiff looked at his cards and his eyes grew wide.  He looked at Amelia in shock.  “Madame Bones, is this correct?”

“May I see the card?” Amelia said, holding her hand out.  The bailiff handed her the card in question.  Amelia read over it and nodded, “It is indeed correct.  In four days that is all we have been able to confirm.  If she’s not given the Dementor’s Kiss herself, we may even find more charges to file against her.”

“M-more?” the bailiff asked, incredulously.

“More,” Amelia confirmed.  “If you would announce our next trial, Bailiff?”

“The Ministry of Magic vs. Delores Umbridge in-“

“WHAT!?” Fudge yelled, interrupting the bailiff.  All eyes turned to face him.


	10. 09: The Ministry of Magic vs. Delores Umbridge and Barty Crouch Sr.

“Bailiff, I believe Minister Fudge would like you to repeat that,” Amelia said.

“The Ministry of Magic vs. Delores Umbridge in the case of the Attempted Murder of Four Hundred and Seventy-Eight people.”

“F-f-four hundred and seventy-eight!?” Fudge exclaimed.

“Yes, myself included,” Amelia said.

“She – you – what?”

“Yes, the day I went to Azkaban to begin the Prisoner Audit.  Aurors, bring the prisoner in.”

Even before the doors opened, the Wizengamot could hear Umbridge screaming, “You can’t do this to me!  I’m the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic!  I demand you let me go this instant!  LET ME GO!  ARGH!”

The chains that had wrapped completely around Pettigrew, only wrapped around Umbridge’s limbs, keeping her in the chair the Aurors forced her to sit in.

“Dose her,” Amelia said.

“Don’t you dare you – ach!” Umbridge’s mouth was forced open and she was dosed with Veritaserum.

“To confirm the Veritaserum is working, Ms. Umbridge, is the current Minister of Magic Lucius Malfoy?”

“Of course not.  Cornelius is, although Lucius was a generous donator to Minister Fudge’s campaign.”

“How good is your eyesight?”

“Near perfect.”

Amelia unfurled a long roll of parchment, and held it in front of Umbridge’s face, “Can you read the names on this list?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.  Members of the Wizengamot, please bear with me.  This will take some time.  You all have copies of the list in front of you by the way.  Ms. Umbridge, did you attempt to have Dementor’s Kiss given to the person that the first name on this list belongs to?”

The members of the Wizengamot quickly pulled out their own copies of the list.  The first name on the list was Amelia Bones.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Treason.”

“And what treason did this person commit?”

“You know damn well you had a spy for the enemy within your own office!” Umbridge said.

Amelia turned to the members of the Wizengamot, “She’s referring to the person that leaked the Black and Pettigrew transcript to the press when she says ‘spy for the enemy’ by the way, aren’t you, Delores?”

“Yes.”

“Ms. Umbridge, did you attempt to have the Dementor’s Kiss given to the person that the second name on this list belongs to?”

“Yes.”

With such a long list, Umbridge had to be dosed two more times.  It would have been more, but by the time Amelia had finished with the two hundredth name, Fudge stood up.

“Enough, enough, I’ve heard enough.  Clearly, this woman is insane!”

“But Cornelius, I did it all for you!” Umbridge said.

“I certainly never asked you too!  All those times you offered to gather the dementors, I thought you were just being extremely, and _dangerously_ , proactive, but you really meant it, didn’t you?  I want nothing to do with your insanity!”

“While we cannot vote on the two hundred and seventy-eight cases we have not heard, we can vote on the two hundred that have been presented before us,” Dumbledore said.  “We shall vote now on those cases.”

The vote this time was unanimous.  Even Lucius Malfoy had voted for Umbridge’s guilt – one of the names on the list had been his father’s, while the man had been on his deathbed, no less.”

“Guilty.  Due to the severity and the frequency of Ms. Umbridge’s crimes, the law allows only for death – either by the Dementor’s Kiss or the Veil of Death.  While I would normally protest a death sentence for anyone, it is quite clear that Ms. Umbridge is deranged and will attempt to kill anyone she can.”

Dumbledore’s name had been on that list as well, and when Amelia asked how many times she had tried to send the dementors to Kiss Dumbledore, Umbridge had answered, “Eighty-six.”

When the vote came back, it was unanimous again.

“Quite clearly, we are all in agreement,” Dumbledore said.  “There is not likely to be enough soul for a dementor to draw out.  Ms. Umbridge, you have been sentenced to the Veil of Death.  Aurors take her away.”

Umbridge screamed the whole time the Aurors dragged her out of the room, “Cornelius!  Don’t let them do this to me!  Cornelius!  CORNEEEEEEEEEELIUSSSSSSSSS!”

“If it’s alright with you, Amelia, I think we should take a small break before the next trial before us.”

“Of course.  It’s perfectly understandable given the gravity of Ms. Umbridge’s crimes.”

The other Wizengamot members were in agreement.  Even those whose name hadn’t been part of Umbridge’s Veritaserum confessions were finding that their names just happened to be further down the list, in the cases they hadn’t gotten to before Fudge had stopped the questioning.

Rita Skeeter, whose name had been number thirty-five on the list, would be writing horrible things about Umbridge in return, even worse then she usually managed.  No one attempted to kill her and got away with it (not that Umbridge had gotten away with anything).  It would take some digging, but considering the amount of Auror’s whose name or family members’ names had been on that list, she’d be able to get all the good dirt without having to dig herself.

And judging by the packet Amelia Bones had just inconspicuously dropped on Rita’s lap as she walked by the public seating, the head of the DMLE would be at the top of the list of people willing to give her dirt on Umbridge.

* * *

“The Ministry of Magic vs. Bartemius Crouch Senior in the case of Perversion of Justice for Sirius Black,” the bailiff read out.

“Bring in the prisoner,” Amelia said.

Like Sirius Black, Barty Crouch walked into the Wizengamot chambers with his head held high, flanked on either side by Aurors.  He didn’t fight when he was dosed with Veritaserum.

“To insure the serum is working, Mr. Crouch, how many languages do you know as of your last evaluation by the linguistics department?”

“Two hundred eighteen.”

“Excellent.  Did you send Sirius Black to Azkaban without a trial?”

“No.”

“Well, he ended up there.  If you didn’t send him to Azkaban after his arrest, where did you put him?”

“In a holding cell while waiting for his trial to be held.”

“And was that trial held while you were the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?”

“No.”

“Did you have any way of knowing that he hadn’t been given a trial after you left the DMLE?”

“No.”

“Did you discuss the particulars of Sirius Black’s case with anyone outside of the aurors who arrested him?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Albus Dumbledore and Minister Bagnold.”

“I see.  What was the conversation with Albus Dumbledore about?”

“Black was a member of his group, the Order of the Phoenix.  He wished to put forward a list of questions I would ask the man under Veritaserum during his trial so that we could learn the true extent of his betrayal.”

“Did Dumbledore at any time suggest that Black wouldn’t be getting a trial in the first place?”

“No, although he did want the trial to be closed to the public.”

“What was the conversation with Minister Bagnold about?”

“She wanted me to throw him in Azkaban right away, since there was so much evidence against him.”

“And did you agree with her at the time?”

“Absolutely not.  Even if Black had been guilty, I would have insisted on giving him a trial!”

“Alright then, I believe that clears things up.  One last subject to question you on, since one of our members brought it up earlier,” Amelia said, staring at Lucius Malfoy.  “Were you aware of Mr. Black’s status as an animagus?”

“Yes.”

“Did you give him permission to not register?”

“Yes.”

“For how long did this permission last?”

“Until the end of the war against Voldemort.”

“Thank you.  That will be all.  Give him the antidote.”

“We shall now vote on Mr. Crouch’s innocence or guilt,” Dumbledore said.  The vote went quickly, and Crouch was declared innocent.  Rita Skeeter took special note that Lucius Malfoy had voted guilty, once again going against the evidence.

“Mr. Crouch, you are free to go.  I believe we have one more case before us.  Bailiff?”

“Actually, before the next case is called,” Amelia said.  “Chief Warlock, I have a question or two for you.”

“Oh?  I’ll do my best to answer them for you.  Ask away.”

“Were you aware of Minister Bagnold’s wishes to see Sirius Black in Azkaban without a trial?”

“I was not.”

“Did you not find it odd that Sirius Black had not shown up in front of the court?”

“If you’ll recall, there was a particularly strong strain of Wizard’s flu going around at the time.  I myself caught it and spent three weeks in bed.  I was told that Sirius Black had been tried sometime during those three weeks, and that the questions I wished him to be asked hadn’t revealed anything.”

“I see.  Do you recall who the Acting Chief Warlock was at the time of your illness?”

Dumbledore stroked his beard, “You’d have to check the records to be absolutely sure, but I believe it was Carmina Desmond.  She was very good friends with Millicent Bagnold, if I recall correctly, and has since passed on to her next great adventure.”

Amelia nodded, “Thank you for clearing that up for us.  Bailiff, the next case please.”

* * *

“Isn’t Dumbledore usually at the head table?” Ron asked, before beginning to pile food onto his lunch plate.

“The trials for Black and Pettigrew are today, and it’s _Professor_ Dumbledore,” Hermione answered.  “They called an emergency session of the Wizengamot and called in a bunch of reporters to witness the trials to avoid accusations of corruption.”

“Oh.”

“It’s taken an awfully long time though,” Daphne said, frowning and staring at Dumbledore’s empty seat.  “Didn’t daddy’s letter say that they were going to be using Veritaserum?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, now frowning himself.  “And only a few questions to confirm the transcript of the interrogation in Dumbledore’s office.  So shouldn’t the trials be over with by now?”

“They should.  I wonder what’s going on.”

“Well,” Hermione said.  “If they did let the reporters in, we’ll probably find out tomorrow in the Daily Prophet.”

“Assuming they don’t send out a special evening edition,” Daphne said.


	11. 10: The Ministry of Magic vs. Millicent Bagnold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went from expecting to have all the trials done in one chapter, to having them split over three chapters instead. That seems to happen to me a lot with these stories.
> 
> I'm posting the last two chapters and epilogue at one time.

“Bailiff, the next case please?”

“The Ministry of Magic vs. former Minster of Magic Millicent Bagnold in the case of Perversion of Justice for Sirius Black.”

Similar to Umbridge, Bagnold was screaming at the Aurors dragging her into the room, “Do you imbeciles have any idea who I am!?  I’ll have your jobs for this, you twits!  I’ll have your families arrested and thrown in Azkaban!  I am the former Minister of Magic of Great Britain and I demand you let me go right now!”

Still struggling and screaming at the Aurors, she failed to notice she had been dragged into the Wizengamot chambers until Dumbledore cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him.  Her surprise allowed the Aurors to sit her in the chair and for the chains to wrap around her limbs, tying her to it.

“Now that you are behaving as one with your former position should,” Dumbledore said disapprovingly, “Amelia?”

“Dose her.”

“Dose me?  With wha – is that Veritaserum?  No!  Get away from me!  Away, I sa – ach!”  The Veritaserum was dropped into her mouth when one of the Aurors caught it and forced it open.

“To insure that the Veritaserum is indeed working,” Amelia said, “Ms. Bagnold, how long have you been in custody, since the Aurors grabbed you in the Bahamas?”

“Seventeen hours and thirteen minutes.”

“Correct.  When did you become aware that Sirius Black had been arrested in 1981?”

“A few hours after he was.”

“When did you try to convince Barty Crouch to throw him in Azkaban without a trial?”

“A week and a half he was arrested, after I had gone through all the evidence against him.”

“Did you not believe he needed a trial?”

“With the large amount of evidence against him?  It would have been a waste of time and resources that we could use on other trials that didn’t have as much evidence.”

“Regardless of the amount of evidence available, everyone is entitled to a trial!  Why did you deny Sirius Black one?”

“He deserved it!”

“Judging by the fact that we found out that he was _innocent_ of the crimes he was arrested for, he quite clearly did not.”

“Yes he did!  That little brat couldn’t do what he was told!  If he had just-!” Bagnold clamped her mouth shut.

“If he had just, what?” Amelia asked.  Bagnold shook her head and fought her hardest to keep her mouth shut, even with the Veritaserum working to make her want to speak.

“Merlin’s beard,” Sirius said.  “It’s _you_!”

“Mr. Black?” Dumbledore asked.  “You know Ms. Bagnold from before she had you thrown in Azkaban?”

“Not personally, no, but I certainly recognize her voice now that she’s said ‘that little brat’.”

“Oh?”

“Millicent Bagnold, you were the woman my parents tried to form a marriage contract to, weren’t you?”

Bagnold glared up at him, “Yes I was!  Do you have any idea what you did when you refused to go through with the contract!?  What plans you ruined!?  I was going to go farther than any Minister had gone before with the political backing of the Black Family until you ruined it by failing to show up to the altar!”

“Bagnold, you’re the same age as my parents, possibly even older,” Sirius said.  “I wouldn’t have married you if they had paid me the entire treasure-trove lying below Gringotts!  Besides, they tried to make the contract _after_ they threw me out.  The only one that could have made the contract stick after that was Grandfather Arcturus, and he was against it, anyway!”

“Clearly, Ms. Bagnold, you had personal reasons for throwing Mr. Black in Azkaban without a trial,” Amelia said.

“He should have stayed there to rot!  It’s no less then he deserves!”

“Aurors, I don’t think we need to hear from her anymore.  Give her the antidote.”

“We shall now vote on former Minister Bagnold’s innocence or guilt,” Dumbledore said.  Rita’s grin became shark-like as once again Malfoy voted innocent while the other members of the Wizengamot voted guilty.  “The law does not allow us to give a death sentence for this crime, but rather at least twenty years in Azkaban and at most fifty years, on top of the time her victim spent there.  Please, record your thoughts and pass them down to me.  We shall see what time-frame we will be voting on.”

Half-an-hour later after Dumbledore had gone through all the suggestions passed to him, he spoke, “One of more common suggestions is just to throw her in Azkaban for life, however must follow the law, so we will be voting between fifty and twelve years in Azkaban or thirty-five and twelve years in Azkaban.”

Dumbledore counted the votes as they were cast, “With only three people voting for thirty-five and twelve years, Ms. Bagnold you are sentenced to Azkaban for fifty and twelve years, for a total of sixty-two.  Aurors, remove her from the room please.”

“No, no!  You can’t do this to me!  It’s all his fault!  Send Black back to Azkaban!  Not me!  Not me!   Noooooooo!”

“Amelia, unless you have any surprises up your sleeve for us?”

“I do not,” Amelia said.

Dumbledore nodded and continued, “Then I bring this emergency session of the Wizengamot to a close.  I look forward to seeing you all again in a week and a half for our second bimonthly meeting.”

Rita Skeeter rushed out of the room.  She had the barebones of an excellent article – if she could finish it in the next few hours, the Daily Prophet could go out before dinner.  And the lovely thick packet Amelia Bones had slipped her would likely give her the beginnings of a whole new article.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy stormed out of the floo and towards his study, completely missing his wife Narcissa roll her eyes and mutter, “Drama queen.”

A glass filled with firewhiskey was waiting for him on his desk, just like it always was when a Wizengamot meeting had ended.  He usually sipped at it delicately, savoring the taste as he recalled how much he had won in the meeting that day.

Today, he gulped it down in one shot and then threw the glass at the wall, screaming in frustration.  If he had known the contents of the article Rita Skeeter was writing at that moment, he’d have taken all the money in his Gringotts accounts and left for anywhere that didn’t have an extradition treaty with Britain or the goblins.

The article would only be the beginning of the destruction of his vaunted reputation.

* * *

“I want to see Harry,” Sirius said.   Dumbledore supposed that he shouldn’t really be surprised that Sirius immediately wanted to see his godson.

“I’m perfectly happy to take you to him, but first I think you should have another healer look at you.”

“I’ve had plenty of healers poking and prodding me for the past several days, thank you.”

“And what did they say before they allowed you to be brought before the Wizengamot today?”

“…”

“Sirius.”

“Albus.”

Dumbledore arched an eyebrow, and Sirius caved seconds later.

“Okay, fine – they wanted me back at St. Mungo’s.”

“Which is precisely where you will go,” Dumbledore said.  “Hogwarts won’t let out for another few months, Sirius.  Take the time to heal yourself before you see Harry, won’t you?”

“Fine, but as soon as St. Mungo’s is done with me, I want to see Harry.”

“Of course, Sirius, of course.”

* * *

Having finished her article in time for the evening edition, Rita read through the packet Bones had slipped her and couldn’t believe her luck.  Forget _one_ new article – there was enough information here to write at least twenty!

Better yet, she could write a book!  Umbridge’s Umbrage?  Delores Umbridge’s Dastardly Underhanded Deeds?  No – Delores Deranged!  Yes, that was the perfect title.

Rita began salivating at the thought of writing such a book without having to face any backlash – Delores herself was soon to be gone from the world if she wasn’t already, and she didin’t have any family to defend her.

Not that they would, Rita thought, as she added one last thing to her article.  They’re names probably would have been on one of the lists of Umbridge’s attempted murders.

* * *

Dumbledore had returned by dinner to a very curious bunch of students.  Before sitting to eat his own dinner, he addressed them, “Today there was an emergency session of the Wizengamot.  There were five trials held – Sirius Black, who is innocent of all charges against him even before he went to prison; Peter Pettigrew, who is the true culprit of Mr. Black’s supposed crimes; Delores Umbridge, who attempted to have the Dementor’s Kiss applied to hundreds of people; Barty Crouch, who was found innocent of throwing Mr. Black in Azkaban without a trial; and former Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold, who was found guilty of throwing Mr. Black in Azkaban without a trial.”

He cleared his throat and continued, “If you wish for any more details, you’ll have to wait for the newspapers to arrive tomorrow, or perhaps you won’t have to wait at all.”

Owls flew into the Great Hall, dropping off copies of the Daily Prophet Special Evening Edition.

“Do try to eat something while fighting over the copies, won’t you?” Dumbledore asked before sitting down to eat dinner himself.

“The Daily Prophet has put out one hell of an evening edition this time,” Daphne said.  She usually spent mealtimes with the Gryffindors, who had all become used to her by now.  “I don’t think Malfoy will be happy about it.”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“Here, read through it.  Lucius Malfoy may not be in the headlines, but Skeeter slams him in the article.  It wouldn’t surprise me if he got some howlers.”

Harry grabbed the paper and began to read.  He didn’t bother turning around when Malfoy came storming over screaming how it was all Harry’s fault.  Judging by the crunching sound he heard, Vince and Greg had everything well in hand.

Pomfrey sighed, and put down her fork, “At this rate, the boy isn’t going to have enough nose to fix.  Severus, you’ve got to find a way to teach that boy self-control.”

“He’ll learn self-control the day I marry Narcissa Malfoy,” Snape replied.


	12. 11: A Healer, A Parkinson, and an Angry Headmaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the last two chapters and epilogue at one time, so make sure you actually have read the chapter before this one.

**_Black and Pettigrew Tried Before Wizengamot!_ **

**_Bagnold Refused To Hold Original Trial For Black!_ **

**_Soulless Delores Umbridge’s Several Hundred Attempted Murders_ **

_In the first trial of the emergency session of the Wizengamot, Sirius Black was declared innocent of his supposed crimes in a near unanimous vote.  One of the few guilty votes belonged to Lucius Malfoy, then proxy of the Black vote.  Malfoy was distinctly unhappy when Sirius Black refused to have Malfoy as his proxy any longer and took his place in the Wizengamot to regain control over his family’s vote.  When informed that Malfoy was his proxy, Sirius Black stated, “Absolutely not.  I’ll vote on my own behalf thank you.”_

_In the second trial, Peter Pettigrew, recently found alive inside Hogwarts, was declared guilty of the crimes Sirius Black had been imprisoned for, but rather than be imprisoned in Sirius Black’s old cell, he was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss.  Only one member of the Wizengamot voted for his innocence – curiously enough it was Lucius Malfoy, who had also voted for Black’s guilt, despite evidence to the contrary._

_In the fourth trial, yes fourth, Barty Crouch Sr. was asked about his actions concerning the lack of trial for Sirius Black.  It was revealed that he had left his post as Head of the DMLE before Black’s trial, and had no way of knowing that he was not given one afterwards as he was not a Wizengamot member himself.  He was voted innocent of any wrongdoing, however, once again Lucius Malfoy voted guilty despite all the evidence saying he was innocent._

_In the fifth trial, former Minister Millicent Bagnold revealed that she had insured Black’s stay in Azkaban because he refused to allow his parents to inforce an illegal marriage contract between him and Bagnold.  She was voted guilty, though again Lucius Malfoy voted innocent despite her confession, and sentenced to Azkaban herself for over half a century.  She screamed the entire time she was dragged out of the room that they should send Black back to Azkaban instead of her._

_But, dear readers, I have saved the best, or in this case worst, for last.  In the third, and most horrifying trial of the emergency session of the Wizengamot, Delores Umbridge was charged with four hundred and seventy-eight attempted murders, having signed Form DK-130B (Authorization Form for the Dementor’s Kiss) for each one.  Madam Bones had only gotten through two hundred of the names before Minister Fudge had been sickened enough to call for a vote on her guilt so they wouldn’t have to hear anymore._

_Her guilt was unanimously decided – even by Lucius Malfoy, whose father’s name had been on the list of cases we had heard.  She was sentenced to be sent through the Veil of Death instead of the Dementor’s Kiss because, as the Chief Warlock put it, “There is not likely to be enough soul for a dementor to draw out.”  She was dragged out of the courtroom, screaming for Minister Fudge to help her, claiming to have done all of it for him._

_For the list of four hundred and seventy-eight confirmed counts of attempted murder, turn to page 6.  For the longer list of unconfirmed attempts, turn to page 6.  And be on the lookout for my book, Delores Deranged, detailing all the dirty deeds of Delores Umbridge, hitting stores soon!_

_-Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet_

* * *

The headline rocked the nation, who turned to page six and then eight and found that if their names weren’t on the confirmed list of attempted murders, it was on the unconfirmed list instead.  Parents of Hogwarts students were relieved to find another article on page four, indicating the students had indeed all been seen to by Healers, were fine, and the medical reports would be sent to them soon.

There were some parents and guardians however that would not be getting a report, but instead a visit from Aurors and Child Services.  Much to Albus Dumbledore’s horror, the Dursley family was on that list.  Each abused child would be getting a visit from someone within Child Services too, to insure they would be placed with a non-abusive family.  During Harry’s visit, Dumbledore crashed the meeting.

“I hope you do not mind if I sit in,” Dumbledore asked.

“Of course not, Headmaster,” the Child Services agent said, “as long as it’s okay with Harry.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry said.

“Now, as I was saying, my name is Erin Parkinson from Child Services.  I’m sure you’ve met my younger cousin Pansy.  She’s probably even been mean to you, but I assure you Harry, I’m much nicer.  Do you remember Healer Davis?”

“Hello Harry,” the healer said.

“Hello.  You were the one that gave me my physical.”

“That’s right.  I’m also Tracy Davis’ father.  Have you met her?”

Harry nodded, “While she doesn’t usually hang out with us Gryffindors, she is friends with Daphne.”

Healer Davis nodded.

“And I’m sure you already know Molly and Arthur Weasley, your friend Ron’s parents, and the Headmaster,” Erin said.  “Knowing your last meeting was a bit hectic, this is Sirius Black, the man appointed by your parents to be your Godfather.”

“Hello Harry.  You might also know me as Padfoot.”

Harry tilted his head, “Like the one on the map?”

“Found it did you?” Sirius asked, smiling widely.

Harry shook his head, “Fred and George did.  They gave it to me earlier in the year since I wasn’t allowed in Hogsmeade.”

“Do you know why we’re all here?” Erin asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“Well, while our primary concern was to insure that Pettigrew hadn’t done anything untoward towards the students, we still gave everyone a full physical, including taking note of injuries that had happened in the past.  Most students had the occasional broken bone or sprained wrist in their history, but there were some students whose medical history worried us,” Healer Davis said.

Harry swallowed nervously, “And mine was one of those?”

“Yes,” Erin said.  “There were a great many injuries among other things that led to us sending Aurors out to the Dursley residence.”

“Uncle Vernon is going to be so mad at me,” Harry said.

“You won’t have to worry about Vernon Dursley again Harry,” Healer Davis said.  “Healers are allowed to remove children from homes where they’ve been abused, and I already have.”

“This meeting is so we can place you with someone that won’t treat you like the Dursleys have,” Erin said.

“Oh.  So…I don’t have to go back?” Harry asked.

“No, Harry, you don’t have to go back to the Dursleys – ever!” Erin said.

“Would you mind if I saw a list of Harry’s injuries from his time there?” Dumbledore asked.

“Only if it’s alright with Harry,” Healer Davis said.

“Er, I guess, I don’t mind.”

“Alright then,” Davis said, pulling out some parchment rolls and making copies of them before handing the copies to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore read through the scrolls, turning whiter and whiter as he read.

“Are you alright, Headmaster?” Harry asked.

“Oh, Harry, my boy, I’m so, so sorry,” Dumbledore said, tears coming to his eyes.  “I’m the one that left you there.  If I had known that they would do this…” he shook his head.  “I don’t understand why Arabella never told me.”

“Arabella?” Erin asked, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment.

“Arabella Figg,” Dumbledore said.  “She’s a squib who moved to Privet Drive to watch over Harry for me.  I couldn’t risk having an actual wizard or witch there as they would have drawn too much attention.”

“Mrs. Figg is a squib?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said.  “I asked her to watch over you for me and to tell me if anything was wrong or if she saw anything suspicious.  I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me about the Dursleys hurting you.”

“She might not have remembered,” Harry said.  “She’d always show me these pictures of her cats but each time she’d give the cats’ different names, and she was always forgetting other things too.”

“It’s possible she’s beginning to suffer from memory problems,” Erin said, still scribbling things down.  “I’ll make sure the Aurors that interview her have a healer with them.”

“I hope you’ll allow me to deal with the Dursleys,” Dumbledore said.

“Sir?  The Aurors will have already taken them into custody.”

“That may be so, but Harry was place in their care under blood wards,” Dumbledore said.  “Blood wards _I_ erected at their home.”

“Blood wards require sacrifices,” Sirius said, eyeing Dumbledore warily.

“I may have been the warder, but it was due to Lily’s sacrifice that everyone in that home was protected – a protection the Dursleys have spit upon.  There is a blood-price to pay, and I intend to insure they pay it.”

“But-“

“He’ll have too,” Sirius said, interrupting Erin.  “Since he is the one that erected the wards, if the Dursleys don’t receive the proper amount of _justice_ for their crimes, it will begin to affect him negatively.”

“In that case, I believe they’re being held in the B-block of the Ministry’s holding cells.”

Dumbledore nodded, “If you will all excuse me.”  Dumbledore stood, gave Harry a hug, and then swept out of the room, robes billowing out behind him.

“So that’s were Snape learned it,” Erin muttered.  Harry giggled.  Erin clapped once and then continued, “Now, on to business.”

* * *

Vernon Dursley paced back and forth in his tiny cell.  Across from him, in a cell of her own was his wife, Petunia.  And judging by the wailing and pounding on the walls, his son, Dudley, was in the cell to the left of his.

“Freaks!” Vernon yelled.  “You can’t do this to us perfectly normal folk!  I know my rights!  Freaks!”

“The only freaks here are the three of you,” Dumbledore said frostily.  Vernon heard Petunia gasp, though he couldn’t see her as his view was blocked by the old man.  “Normal, you!?” Dumbledore continued.  “Where is the normalcy in harming an innocent child, who had lost his parents to a madman?  I’ll tell you where – nowhere!  There is _nothing_ normal about you, Vernon Dursley, and now you will pay for your crimes.”

Dumbledore drew his wand, causing Petunia to scream.

“Wha-what are you d-doing?  You c-can’t use tha-that thing on m-me!”

Dumbledore ignored him, repeating the same phrase over and over again, in different languages.  The last one was English, “For justice, for blood spilt and spit on, let this one know the wrong he has done!”

There was a flash of white light and Vernon Dursley disappeared from his cell.

“What did you do with him!?” Petunia shrieked.  “What did you do to my husband!?”

“You’ll soon find out,” Dumbledore said, and then cast the same curse on her that he had used on Vernon.

Petunia Dursley disappeared in a flash of light too.

Finally, Dumbledore came upon Dudley Dursley, now cowering in the corner of his cell, sobbing and holding on to his knees, rocking back and forth.  Dumbledore felt pity for the boy, but if he had done nothing wrong then the curse would do nothing to him.

Dumbledore cast the curse one last time, and Dudley Dursley disappeared from his cell in a flash of light.

Dumbledore sighed and walked away, ready to make his way back to Hogwarts, where he’d begin to make things right with Harry.


	13. Epilogue: The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the last two chapters and epilogue at one time, so make sure you've read the two chapters before this.

While Harry was put in Sirius’ custody, he and Sirius, along with Vince and Greg, stayed with the Weasleys for the first few summers.  Harry did spend some time each summer with Daphne’s family, but with Sirius around, he didn’t need them to teach him about his responsibilities concerning the Houses of Potter and Black.  Harry and Daphne remained under contract and married shortly after their graduation.  They had four children, two of each gender.

Vince and Greg remained in Harry’s service and spent their school years sending Draco Malfoy back to the hospital wing.  They would go onto marry Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson (who was nicer to them since Erin had had a talk with her) respectively.  Vince and Millie had two children, while Greg and Pansy had three.  After the deaths of their parents, Vince and Greg moved the Houses of Crabbe and Goyle to vassals of the Potters instead of the Malfoys.

Ron and Hermione spent three decades going through on and off spots in their relationship, having two children, before finally getting married, and having three more.  Sirius began dating Amelia Bones, and they married four years later, although they never had children together.

Rita’s book – Delores Deranged – was a hit with everyone, and not just because the last chapter detailed her death via the Veil.  It also led to a sequel years later – Lucius Malfoy: A Voter of Bad Faith – which detailed the way Lucius Malfoy had voted on everything since becoming a member of the Wizengamot, which to no one’s surprise, was very similar to the way he had voted in the trials of Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Barty Crouch, and Millicent Bagnold.

Lucius was very quickly stripped of his title, fined heavily, and disgraced.  Narcissa divorced him before he could drain the allowance vault in which she still gained money from her birth family, the Blacks, which also forced him to pay back the dowry he had been paid when they married.  The last anyone ever saw of him was in Knockturn Alley where he disappeared after attempting to pick a pocket belonging to the wrong person.

Severus Snape did indeed marry the recently divorced Narcissa Malfoy, but despite his comment to Poppy Pomfrey all those years ago, it was not the day that Draco Malfoy learned self-control.  Draco was very vocal about his objection to the marriage, believing his mother never should have divorced his father, leading to him being silenced and stuck in a body-bind for the whole ceremony.

He did not learn self-control even when he got married himself, to a witch who had gone to Durmstrang.  Draco spent most of his marriage with his mouth cursed shut by his wife who was tired of hearing him whine about everything.

The older Dursleys were never again seen outside of the psychiatric hospitals they had suddenly appeared in.  Vernon spent the rest of his life trying to hide in cupboards from the mean man that was trying to harm him and screaming every time a male doctor or patient came near him.  Petunia spent the rest of her life trying to clean everything.  She wouldn’t have been kept in the hospital if she hadn’t repeatedly tried to attack everyone that she saw as unclean, which was practically everyone she saw.

Dudley Dursley, however, came to see what he had done to his cousin as wrong.  Dumbledore’s curse was lifted by his remorse and shame at what he had done to the other boy.  While he never spoke to his cousin ever again, Dudley treated everyone he came into contact with with respect and kindness.  He would grow up, get married, have children, and watch those children have their own children.  He died peacefully in his sleep the day after his great-granddaughter got a letter to Hogwarts.

Arabella Figg was indeed suffering memory problems, and was moved to a private facility where she could live out the rest of her life with her (many) beloved cats.

As for Voldemort, he was never seen again, allowing the Tri-Wizard Tournament to go off without a hitch (Cedric Diggory won, by the way).  There was a Tom Riddle, ugly and misshapen, that spent several decades shoveling dragon dung under Gringotts.  The goblins regularly paraded certain objects that had been former horcruxes by him, causing him to scream in frustration.  During one of these screaming fits, a dragon chose to defecate on him, leading to his suffocation.


End file.
